All Fall Down
by Tori of Lorien
Summary: AU. Two friends disappeared. Only one came back. Colby Lopez knows he's the key to solving not only what happened to him that night, but his still missing friend as well. The only problem is, he has no memory of the event, or of his own life. If he doesn't remember soon, he may lose his best friend. But if he does, he's the one who could wind up dead.
1. Chapter 1

**All Fall Down**

 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing associated with WWE, NXT, or Ring of Honor! Just any OCs! Nor do I own the book this was inspired by. That would belong to Jennifer L. Armentrout.

 **Summary** : AU. Two friends disappeared. Only one came back. Colby Lopez knows he's the key to solving not only what happened to him that night, but his still missing friend as well. The only problem is, he has no memory of the event, or of his own life. If he doesn't remember soon, he may lose his best friend. But if he does, he's the one who could wind up dead.

 **Characters** : Tyler Black/Seth Rollins, Jimmy Jacobs, Summer Rae, Zahra Schrieber, AJ Styles, Dean Ambrose, Roman Reigns, Kevin Steen/Kevin Owens, Sami Zayn, Alex Shelley, Chris Sabin, Marek Brave, Shane Hollister, others and OCs featured

 **Pairings** : Summer Rae/Seth Rollins/Zahra Schrieber, Jimmy Jacobs/OC, Austin Aries/Lacey, Dean Ambrose/Paige Knight, others featured

 **Rating** : M

 **Genre** : Mystery/Suspense

 **Warnings** : Violence, language, character death

 **Song** : "Another White Lie," Voodoo Johnson

 **Author's Note** : Hey, guys! So, I've had this idea for a little while, and it was one that was bugging me to actually put out there. And, here we are! This story was inspired by the book "Don't Look Back" by Jennifer L. Armentrout, which I've read recently, because it was such an intriguing plot idea. I, of course, took only a couple small elements from it and have twisted it to my own design and added my own spin on things, but credit for the inspiration is still given where it's due. The title is also inspired by the song "Another White Lie" by Voodoo Johnson, which actually inspired quite a bit of the story as a whole. This is a bit of a challenge story I gave to myself for a couple reasons, such as I'm writing with some characters I've never written with before, and it's written in first person, which I primarily don't do (much thanks given to **Cinnamon Muffin Punk** for jumping on board and helping me out with the plot, too!). But, I thought it worked out better for this story. It's told from **Seth Rollins' POV** (unless otherwise noted in a chapter), and as he's trying to put the pieces of what happened to them together, see if you have any theories as we continue to go along that match up with his. A thing to keep in mind as he tries to figure out what happened, anyone in his life can be a suspect, so keep a close eye on the characters! With that said, feel free to read and review, just no flames, please. Enjoy!

 _Chapter 1_

 _What the hell happened?_

It was the only thought on my mind as I stumbled over a couple thick tree roots sticking out of the dirt path I found myself on. Well, other than _damn, that hurts_ , as there really wasn't a part of my body that wasn't sore in some way. In the minimal, reddish light of sunset coming through the trees on either side of me, I could see that dried blood covered my hands and forearms, there was dirt under my nails, and my t-shirt and jeans were dirtied and torn in places. My head was pounding mercilessly.

 _What the hell happened?_

I threw a hand out to steady myself against a tree, feeling my palm was skinned, when I stepped on the shoelace of my untied shoe, and I had to stop to catch my breath. I took a moment to take in my surroundings, but there was absolutely nothing familiar about the freshly budding trees or the path that wound through them. _Where the hell am I?_ There were no signs around that I could see. Great. That was a real help.

Making up my mind to just keep going and see where the path took me, I pushed off the tree and limped my way along. My breath was still ragged, my head and every part of me still throbbing. I just wanted to collapse and curl up somewhere until it all stopped. I'd never been in so much pain before. But something told me that wouldn't be a good idea in the middle of nowhere.

As I forced myself onward, I tried to think of how I could have gotten out here, wherever _here_ even was, and what I could have been doing that would bring me here. But the more I tried to remember these things, the more my head seemed to hurt as nothing came to me anyway.

Well, shit.

I cringed when my foot hit a rock I hadn't seen in the growing darkness, falling forward to my hands and knees. The landing in the dirt was soft enough, but the impact was enough to rock my entire body. My arms trembled under my weight, and it took everything I had to keep from faceplanting into the ground. I groaned. What could have possibly happened to cause all this? I felt like I'd been run over by a train, but I also knew that couldn't have happened since the train most likely would have come out the victor in that encounter.

But then, my eyes narrowed when brighter light caught my attention from up ahead, just around the bend. My heart leapt. Where there was light, there was most likely people. Even better, there could be answers.

But there could also be danger. What if I'd gone in a circle, and that's where I'd come from to begin with? What if that was where all... all _this_ , whatever _this_ was, happened?

I shook my head, clenching my jaw as I forced myself back to my feet before I stumbled a little. I had to take a chance. It was the only sign that I wasn't alone wherever I was that I'd seen, and I didn't want to think what would happen if I continued to wander around aimlessly out here when night completely fell. It could only be worse then.

 _The hard stone floor rushed up at me faster than I anticipated, and I gasped as my arms couldn't support my weight as they collapsed beneath me. My chin was jostled as it bounced off the floor, causing stars to appear in front of my eyes. The pain was almost numbing, but as I looked around, I noticed there was nothing else other than me in the dark room. It was me, and only me._

 _There was a door behind me. It was cracked open, as if I'd left in a hurry._

 _And from the other side of it came a cry of agony._

I shivered in the cool breeze and winced when a sharp pain shot through my temples, the darkening trees once again fading into view around me. What in the hell was _that_? Something I imagined? A memory? But if it was, it made no sense to me.

The pained scream lingered in my ears even still.

Trying my best to shake it off and forget about it for now, though I was shaken to my core by what I'd just seen and heard, I trudged toward that light which hopefully would prove to be my salvation. I was limping even worse than I had been before, having twisted my ankle when I'd tripped on the rock, but I was too close to give up now. This had to be something, it _had_ to.

What I saw when I finally broke out of the trees wasn't what I expected. But then again, I wasn't exactly sure what it was that I'd been expecting. A brightly-lit, three-story brick building loomed ahead of me, stretching further than I could see with other, sometimes taller buildings sprouting up around it. A vastly sloping lawn of manicured, fresh green grass spread out before me, a smooth, concrete path lit by tall lamp posts winding around it out of sight. Young people with bags and backpacks hanging off their shoulders walked along the path, chatting with excitement and laughing, or were camped out on the lawn, poring over books and listening to music.

 _Where in the world was I?_

It was when I stumbled forward when I tried to take a step toward this building I'd found when they started to notice me. The same people who had once been laughing and talking so freely were now stopping and staring at me with wide eyes. People who were sitting in the grass were pulling out their headphones and setting their books aside, their mouths agape.

But the look on all of their faces was unmistakable. They were all staring at me as though they'd seen a ghost. If it was my appearance, I had no idea. Though no matter what it was, it left me feeling very unsettled.

"C-C-Colby?"

It was the first voice I heard on the eerily silent lawn. I leaned forward a bit, resting my hands on my knees as my breath hardened before I chanced a glance around. A short, thin girl with waved black hair that fell past her shoulders was slowly standing up from where she'd previously been sitting at a picnic table, raising a pair of sunglasses to sit on top of her head to look at me better. I could see hints of tattoos on her forearms, hands, and neck underneath the black, lightweight sweater she was wearing. Since she was the only person moving and not staring at me as if I was some freak on public display, I had to assume that she was talking to me.

My stomach started to knot uncomfortably, my already pounding heart starting to speed up slightly more. I couldn't deny she was gorgeous. Man, how lucky was I that she seemed to know who I was?

"Colby?" she tried again, her voice still quiet and uncertain though slightly stronger this time. Not so confused.

But I was. _Colby_. Was that me? My name? I couldn't say for sure.

Though it must have been, because Tattoo Girl had left her books and shoulder bag behind on the table as she took a few steps toward me. They were slow, deliberate. Almost as if she was afraid she would scare me off if she moved too quickly or got too close. Like I was some kind of wild animal.

"Oh, my God... Colby, are you all right?" she asked.

"Col... Colby?" I repeated. Or at least, I thought I did. It came out more as a rasp, my throat sore and drier than it'd ever been. Man. Way to embarrass myself in front of her.

I tried to straighten up a bit, and Tattoo Girl paused. But that was the last of my resolve, and my weak legs finally gave out from under me, sending me crumpling to the ground. The smell of freshly cut grass filled my nose when my cheek hit, and I fought the urge to sneeze as I closed my eyes. For some reason, I feared the simple action would kill me after everything else my body must have gone through.

A frantic murmur went up around me, and though I could hardly make out any of the words that were being said, I could make out a couple phrases like, "campus security" and "hospital." I heard footsteps getting closer before a small hand landed on my back.

"It'll be okay, Colby... Help's on the way."

It was the voice I recognized to belong to Tattoo Girl. I tried to push myself up on my arms to face her, noticing for the first time that half of the long strands of my hair that fell into my face was black while the other was bleached blond, but I didn't get too far before I had to roll onto my back since I just didn't have the strength. Though, lucky me, my head somehow ended up resting on her lap. I forced my eyes to open as I looked up at her. To say she was shocked would be an understatement, but for whatever reason, she tolerated it. A small smile even lifted the corner of her lips, lighting up her eyes ever so slightly.

"Damn, Colbs, you look terrible," she muttered, hesitantly reaching a hand out before tenderly brushing some hair out of my face. "What happened?"

"I..." My eyes narrowed as I struggled to recall anything that'd happened in the past... well, whenever. But I couldn't. It was like there was an erased spot in the timeline of my life. "I don't... I don't remember..."

Tattoo Girl worried her bottom lip between her teeth as her brow furrowed in concern. "Okay, don't force yourself..." She sighed, appearing as though she didn't want to ask the next question which she felt she still had to ask. "Where... where's Jimmy?"

 _Jimmy_? I closed my eyes, but again, no matter how much I racked my brain, the name didn't ring a bell. But I wasn't surprised. I wasn't even completely sure if my name actually _was_ Colby. I'm not sure how I was supposed to know someone else's.

Finally, I shook my head. "I'm sorry, I... I don't know..."

The sigh of defeat from Tattoo Girl crushed me. I wish I could have told her everything she wanted to know and more, but there was no way I could. There was literally nothing in my head about what had happened, where I'd been, how I'd wound up back here, and who this Jimmy person was. Hell, or even about who _I_ was. All I knew was everything hurt and my head felt like it was going to split open at any minute.

I blindly reached out, found her hand, and squeezed it. She flinched at the contact, almost as though she was about to pull her hand away. I started to loosen my grip, but her hand relaxed in mine before I could. Again, it was like she was tolerating me. But I still wished I could do whatever I could to help her. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do or say.

What sounded like faint sirens steadily started to get louder. Though where they were coming from, I couldn't tell. I slowly opened my eyes, finding Tattoo Girl's. In the minimal sunlight that was left, I could see the tears that were shining in them. Obviously, she must have had some kind of attachment to me and whoever this Jimmy guy was.

 _What the hell had happened to us?_

 **Author's Note** : For those who aren't familiar with who Jimmy Jacobs is (for those who are, feel free to skip this paragraph), he is one of the most notable names in the promotion Ring of Honor, among others, most known for his crazy, villainous roles. He was part of a tag team with Seth Rollins (back then going by Tyler Black) known as The Age of the Fall when Seth first joined Ring of Honor, and they were a tag team in other places, such as _Wrestling Society X_ on MTV and the promotion AAW. He is now working in WWE as a member of the creative team in NXT. For those not familiar with Zahra Schrieber, she was partly trained by Jimmy Jacobs at the school in Detroit run by Ring of Honor manager, Truth Martini, and she is now in NXT as a Diva and manager role.

So, that's it for this chapter! It's more of an intro to set the tone, and there are supposed to be a lot of questions left at this point and no real clues to speak of yet. What happened to Seth? We'll find out as we keep going! Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer** : I own nothing associated with WWE, NXT, or Ring of Honor! Just any OCs! Nor do I own the book this was inspired by. That would belong to Jennifer L. Armentrout.

 **Summary** : AU. Two friends disappeared. Only one came back. Colby Lopez knows he's the key to solving not only what happened to him that night, but his still missing friend as well. The only problem is, he has no memory of the event, or of his own life. If he doesn't remember soon, he may lose his best friend. But if he does, he's the one who could wind up dead.

 **Author's Note** : Hey, thanks for the reviews and favorites, guys! It means a lot. Well, after the many questions that were spawned due to the first chapter, Colby's about to set out to try to piece his life together and to figure out what happened to him and Jimmy. Always keep an eye out for any clues, as well as keeping an eye on the characters, since anyone can have something to do with what happened to them. With that in mind, hope you enjoy!

 _Chapter 2_

As it turned out, Tattoo Girl was right. My name actually _was_ Colby. Colby Lopez, as a matter of fact. It was something I never would have known if I hadn't seen it on the medical form at the foot of my bed in my small room at the clinic I was brought to. So much for a hospital.

Other things I'd learned about myself: I was born in Davenport, Iowa, a place not overly far from where I was located in Des Moines, Iowa, as a senior in college. I was a mere twenty credits away from graduating with a bachelor's degree in Communications, as this was my final semester. I was twenty-two, almost twenty-three years of age. My natural hair color was black, and my eyes were brown. I was a decent height and in decent shape. Pretty well-toned, if I did say so myself. Not that I'm bragging.

Oh, yeah. And I was pretty messed up.

The source of all my pain was made perfectly clear after a lengthy once-over by a nice enough middle-aged doctor. He'd said I'd sustained injuries equal to a force of that of a minor car crash. Multiple contusions, bumps and bruises, and cuts. A sprained ankle, a couple dislocated fingers. A pulled muscle in my back, a strained one in my knee. A severely bruised shoulder. Some issue with my neck, thankfully not too severe. Dehydration. And some trauma to the head, which I'd needed to get stitches in the side of my skull for.

Yeah. As I said, pretty messed up. But, nothing that a little bed rest and some pain killers can't fix.

Though that still didn't explain why I can't remember anything about _how_ I got to be in that shape. You'd think a car crash would be something memorable.

There was a quiet knock at the door, and the doctor (I've affectionately nicknamed him "Doc") who'd been poking and prodding me with all kinds of tests walked in. He had a clipboard in hand and a somber look on his face, even though he tried to encourage me with a smile. It didn't reach his eyes. Not too encouraging.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Lopez?" he asked, walking forward until he came to a stop by my bed.

It took me a minute to realize it was me he was talking to, even though he was looking directly at me. Not to mention I was the only other person in the room. "Colby" and "Mr. Lopez" were still two names I had to get used to being called. They didn't feel like they belonged to me. "Uh... okay," I answered. Not entirely true, however, considering I still felt like I'd come out on the losing end of an encounter with a train. But something told me that wasn't the answer he was looking for.

Apparently, neither was the one I gave him, as evidenced by his straight face as Doc nodded once and moved to the head of my bed to check the machine I was hooked up to, keeping track of my blood pressure and heart rate among other things I had no idea of. I glanced down at the IV in my hand, careful not to move it around too much as I wondered just what it was they were pumping my body with. Pain killers, probably. And maybe some fluids to get me hydrated to a healthy level again. I'd caught glimpses of my reflection as paramedics and Tattoo Girl accompanied me to the room I'd claimed as mine for the past X number of hours. To say it was cringeworthy would only be kidding myself. I was so pale it almost seemed like all the blood had been drained from my body, and my jaw and forehead were marked by dark bruises. I was just glad to have gotten cleaned up a bit in the midst of all these medical tests being run on me so all the dried blood that had caked on my skin and in my hair was gone. It made me feel a little more normal.

But only a little...

 _Tattoo Girl_.

Even though I'd only given her a brief thought, and she was stuck out in the waiting room while I was going through all these tests, it was enough to make my stomach start to knot up again. My quicker heartbeat was something I was sure could be picked up on the monitor, but if it was, Doc didn't seem to notice it. I was still confused about why she seemed to have this effect on me, and that combined with how she was definitely emotional when I literally stumbled back onto the campus I'd learned was mine, I could only assume we were at least friends. Good friends, close friends– me, Tattoo Girl, and this Jimmy guy I still couldn't place.

But did I want to be more? I certainly seemed to turn into an idiot whenever I was around her, so maybe so. It made me feel even worse about not being able to remember her.

Though, first things first. Who was Jimmy, and what had happened to us to make Tattoo Girl so worried about us? And so relieved when I returned alive? And so sad that Jimmy hadn't been found yet?

Doc nodded once again, though this time seemingly in approval, as he turned away from the steadily beeping machine and wrote something down on his clipboard with the clicky pen he had. "Everything seems to be in order," he told me, once again attempting a smile as he looked at me. Trying to encourage me again, I guess. Still not working too well. "Your vitals have improved since you got here, Mr. Lopez."

So, I guess the good news here is I'm gonna live. Yay. But I still wanted answers. "Awesome," I muttered. "But... about my memory..."

At this, I definitely saw reluctance on Doc's face, and he sighed quietly as he turned over the paper on his clipboard. "Yes, that's what we have to talk about," he said. His tone was definitely heavier now. Great. "Physically, you've been through a lot. A lot, I'm sure, that your body isn't accustomed to, which has caused you a lot of stress, both physically and mentally."

I raised an eyebrow. Where was he going with this, exactly? "Meaning?" I prompted.

Doc met my gaze. "When your body goes through such trauma, it can cause your system to go into shock. That kind of stress, combined with the head wound you received, has caused you to slip into what appears to be dissociative amnesia."

Um... English, please? "Amnesia?" I repeated, making sure I'd heard him correctly. I knew that it meant memory loss. The very idea of it scared me.

"Dissociative amnesia," Doc clarified. Like _I_ knew the difference. But apparently, there was one. He must have seen the blank look on my face, because he decided to continue. "It's when a person suffers memory loss, usually caused by some sort of trauma. They have trouble remembering the events surrounding that trauma, as well as people or things that are personal to them."

I mulled this over for a minute. That seemed to make sense somewhere in my brain, since I couldn't remember for the life of me what had happened to put me in this condition. Or who people like Jimmy and Tattoo Girl and whoever else I knew were, even though I was clearly supposed to. It also explained why I understood that Doc was a doctor, knew what all the machines in this room were for, as well as a plethora of other things that had no sentimental meaning to me whatsoever, indicating my memory wasn't completely gone.

So, I basically forget everything important to me, everything I love, and remember the trivial stuff. Shit, I sounded like a heartless bastard.

"You're sure it's... dissociative?" I found myself still asking. Like, it was just this little thing that was messing me up and not something worse, right? Like, I'm not just a heartless bastard, am I?

A small smile and what suspiciously looked like pity appeared on Doc's face. "That's why I was going to do one more simple test to make sure that our original diagnosis is correct."

 _Fantastic_. But when I saw that he merely clicked his pen and adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose to see the writing on his clipboard better, I calmed down a little. At least this test wasn't going to require needles or taking another vial of the already limited supply of blood out of my body. They'd taken more than enough already.

"I'm just going to ask you a few questions, and I want you to answer them to the best of your ability." When I nodded, Doc cleared his throat. "Who was the first president of the United States?"

"George Washington," I answered, as though it were automatic. Wow. It was nice knowing the answer to a question for the first time since I could remember.

"Where is the Statue of Liberty located?"

"New York." Zing!

"Santa Claus is most commonly associated with which holiday?"

"Christmas." Psh. Everyone knew that.

"What month is it currently? And the year?"

"April. 2015." Yes, springtime in the Midwest. Gotta love it.

Doc briefly paused. "When is your birthday?"

"It's–!" That was it. My confidence immediately came crumbling down as I racked my brain, trying to find the answer to such a simple question but was unable to do so. I slumped back against the bed. "It's..." Finally, I sighed. "I don't know."

"What is your favorite color?"

How could not knowing an answer to two questions in a row, ones that I _should_ know, crush my ego this much? I wouldn't have made it past the Bridge of Death, that much was obvious. I shook my head. "I don't know."

"Do you have any pets?"

Again, nothing. "I don't know."

"Do you know what day of the week this is?"

I might as well just give up now. I glumly shook my head. "No."

"It's Thursday," Doc informed me gently. Why did it sound like he was talking down to a small child? "When is the last day you remember?"

I wanted to say Wednesday. But, truth be told, I couldn't remember anything over the course of... I have no idea how long. So, instead of answering, I just shook my head. God, I felt like a freak.

Doc seemed fully convinced of his prior theory as he clicked his pen closed and tucked his clipboard under his arm. He tried again for an encouraging smile, but, just like the other times, it didn't manage to make it all the way up to his eyes. He must have had a lot of practice giving people this smile full of false hope.

"Don't worry, Mr. Lopez," he said, his tone unconvincingly calm. "As I said before, you've been through a lot, much more than anyone should have to physically endure. It will take some time to fully recover from this."

 _Don't worry?_ I felt a surge of anger at his words. That was easy for _him_ to say. _He_ wasn't the one who was frustrated because he couldn't remember what had happened to him and to an apparent friend. _He_ wasn't the one who was crushed because he couldn't remember the important people in his life. _He_ had all of his memories fully intact.

But, I managed to suppress that anger and instead ask a question that had been on my mind for quite some time. "I'll get these memories back... right?" Not only because I wanted to remember what actually meant something to me in my life, but also to figure out what had happened to me to get me to this point.

And to Jimmy.

The hesitance on Doc's face was unmistakable. "Your memories are still there, Mr. Lopez. You're just not able to access them at the present time."

My eyes widened. My memories were still in my brain somewhere? That just made me even more frustrated that I couldn't get to them. God, this is seriously fucked up.

"Think of it as you saved something on your phone," Doc tried to explain to me, probably in terms that I could understand. Or relate to, since the concept of what was now happening to me was definitely something I couldn't wrap whatever was left of my mind around. "You know it's there, you're absolutely sure you saved it, but you're unable to find it. It's just going to take some time to retrieve."

Okay, so I could get behind that explanation. Who's never had an experience like that? Seriously. It made sense to me.

But it didn't make my daunting situation any less daunting. After all, there were cases where data saved on phones could not be retrieved, no matter how much time and effort went into searching for it. It was just gone without a trace, lost in cyberspace, never to be found.

I suddenly wasn't liking this analogy at all.

"So... I'll be able to retrieve them... right?" I tried again. I could have kicked myself for how scared I sounded this time.

Doc reached out and set a hand on my uninjured shoulder. It felt heavy, and I forced myself not to flinch away. "Not every case is the same," he said. "I won't lie to you. Some people who have faced this much trauma and have suffered from this form of amnesia don't get all of their memories back." My heart nearly stopped. "But, there are others who have gotten all of them back." He tried to give me a smile once more, and this time, I could see traces of kindness in it. Almost like he meant it. Almost encouraging. "Just give it time. If you try to force yourself to remember too much too soon, you'll just cause yourself more stress, as well as more damage. Just take it slow."

Take it slow, huh? That shouldn't be too much of a problem. It's not like I even had any real idea of how to go about trying to get my memories back, anyway. No big deal.

I lowered my gaze, trying to keep the tears that were threatening to form out of sight of Doc. I may have made it back alive from wherever I'd been, but what good was that if I didn't know where that was or what had happened? I'd never felt more useless.

And even worse, what if Jimmy was _still there_? Alive? If I was in this kind of shape, what condition was _he_ in? The very thought made my blood run cold.

Doc squeezed my shoulder lightly before he let go. "Get some rest," he advised. Pretty good advice, considering my head was still slightly pounding and sleep sounded ideal. I tried to get comfortable against the pillow behind me, though I wasn't entirely sure how I was going to get any real sleep after learning that I might never be the same again, as I watched him make his way toward the door.

However, he didn't make it before it suddenly opened. I straightened up a bit, and my eyes widened when I saw two men walk in, both wearing black uniforms and something that looked like "Des Moines P.D." printed on their short-sleeved shirts. Around their waists were holsters, holding what appeared to be walkie-talkies.

And handguns.

Doc straightened up considerably, trying to work his body between these guys and me. They were both taller than he was, so it wasn't working super well, but I still had to give the guy credit. He was showing he had a set.

But at the same time, his action unnerved me. Why was he trying to keep two people I recognized to be police officers, judging by their uniforms, away from me? My stomach knotted up, but not in the pleasant way whenever Tattoo Girl was around. This was dread, not metaphorical butterflies. Why were they here? And why were they looking for _me_? They didn't want to arrest me, did they? I shrank back against the pillow behind me as much as I could. Suddenly, I felt like coming back to this place without my memories was some sort of federal crime.

"Look, officers, I have all the respect in the world for you and what you do, but you can't just barge in here," Doc said. He raised a hand in front of him as though that would help to keep them at bay. "This boy has been through a lot and needs rest."

The first officer, who had scruff lining his sharp features, light eyes, and dark brown hair that fell around those eyes, took a step forward. "No disrespect, doc, but I don't think we've done any barging here," he said. I noticed immediately that he had some kind of twang to his voice. Maybe Southern? He was also very soft-spoken. Despite his appearance, he didn't seem to be too threatening. That had to be a good indication, right? Maybe it meant I wasn't in some sort of trouble.

"In fact, I think we've been rather patient while you ran all your tests," Southern Officer continued with a small, good-natured smile. He reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a thin wallet, flashing what appeared to be some kind of official badge and ID. "Lieutenant Allen Jones. This is Deputy Kyle Henderson." He gave a brief jerk of his head to the man standing behind him, who was taller, had dark hair as well, dark eyes, and more of a beard. He flashed his own badge quickly before putting it away. I was slightly unnerved, since, judging by his stern expression, he didn't seem to be quite as friendly.

But _Lieutenant_? Oh, shit. This was almost the big guy in charge.

What the hell did _I_ do?

It appeared that badge beat hand, however, as Doc lowered his. Allen put his badge away again shortly after. "Look, doc. This is an open investigation, and we're just doing our jobs," he continued. "This is the first major break we've had. He's a witness."

 _Open investigation_? _Major break_? _Witness_? The words echoed on a loop in my mind. This was sounding less and less good for me by the minute. Panic began to gnaw at my stomach. I wished with everything I could muster that I could remember what the hell had happened.

But I was also feeling slightly hopeful. Maybe these two would have some answers.

Doc, however, once again showing that stubborn streak I had some newfound respect for, shook his head. "He's not going to remember anything that could help your investigation, officers," he said. "He's suffered a lot of trauma and isn't able to remember much."

"Yeah, your receptionist told us about his amnesia," Kyle stated. _Dissociative amnesia_ , I mentally corrected him. Because, for whatever reason, that sounded slightly less scary. Like I had a chance. "We just have a few questions."

"We won't take long," Allen added with a small smile.

Doc looked between the two officers before glancing back at me. _Don't leave me_ _with them_ , I silently pleaded.

But, he obviously didn't hear me as he turned back to Allen. "Just don't push him too hard," he muttered. And with that, he shuffled past them and out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

 **Author's Note** : For those not too familiar with AJ Styles (for those who are, feel free to skip to the next paragraph), he's been making a name for himself all over the wrestling scene for a great number of years. Making his start in Ring of Honor alongside names such as Christopher Daniels, Mark and Jay Briscoe, Amazing Red, Samoa Joe, Daniel Bryan, and CM Punk, he made his way through the ranks there before moving on to TNA, a company he helped to build from the ground up along with Samoa Joe. After moving through the ranks there as well before being released, Styles returned to his home in Ring of Honor in early 2014. He now goes between there and New Japan Pro Wrestling, where he replaced Prince Devitt (now Finn Bálor in NXT) as leader of the faction Bullet Club, and he's a (currently) former two-time IWGP World Heavyweight Champion in New Japan Pro Wrestling, having won both times against long-time staple of the company, Kazuchika Okada.

So, not too many answers yet, but Colby's starting to piece a couple things of his own life together. There's more to figure out, especially about what could have happened to him and Jimmy, and with the emergence of the officers, things could get better or worse in his quest for answers. We'll have to see as we keep going. Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer** : I own nothing associated with WWE, NXT, or Ring of Honor! Just any OCs! Nor do I own the book this was inspired by. That would belong to Jennifer L. Armentrout.

 **Summary** : AU. Two friends disappeared. Only one came back. Colby Lopez knows he's the key to solving not only what happened to him that night, but his still missing friend as well. The only problem is, he has no memory of the event, or of his own life. If he doesn't remember soon, he may lose his best friend. But if he does, he's the one who could wind up dead.

 **Author's Note** : Hey, guys, thanks for your reviews and favorites! It means a lot! Well, last time, the police started to get involved in their search for answers about what happened to Jimmy. Can Colby get any from them? Let's find out! And remember, especially starting around now, keeping an eye on characters would probably be a good idea since a couple are coming to the forefront, as well as a couple potential clues. Enjoy!

 _Chapter 3_

Uh, oh.

I tried not to make my nervous swallow too noticeable when I saw that Allen and Kyle's gazes were suddenly solely on me. Mine faltered as I lowered it to my lap, but I could still feel their eyes on me, intense as though they wanted to penetrate my skull and extract any information that was there.

In fact, for a moment, I wished that were possible. Maybe I'd be able to finally get some answers that way. Maybe we'd be able to find this Jimmy guy who was supposed to be my friend.

Finally, after what felt like a too long period of silence, Allen cleared his throat before I heard footsteps getting closer. "Hello, Colby," he said kindly. "It's good to see you alive and well. There were a lot of people who were worried about you."

I chanced a glance up, seeing he'd stopped right next to the bed. He had a small smile on his face. Though both the look and his voice were slightly cautious.

Like he was talking to a potential criminal.

"Hi." I know I should have said more, especially since there were people who cared enough about me to be worried about me while I was gone, but I just couldn't. It's not like I knew any of these people or what'd happened to me, anyway.

Allen somehow seemed to be somewhat understanding of my shyness, and his smile inched ever so slightly closer to his eyes. "Well, as I said, I'm Lieutenant Allen Jones with the Des Moines police department," he told me. He showed me his badge, and I had to admit it was pretty impressive up close. Though it wouldn't have made much of a difference, considering I probably would have believed he was who he said he was, anyway. "I just want to ask you a couple questions, okay?"

I nodded. Sure that's okay, just as long as he didn't expect any real or helpful answers.

"All right, let's get started, then." Allen took a couple steps closer before he sat down on the bed next to me. It took everything I had not to scoot away from him. Something told me that would make me look guiltier than I already may have been. "Your friend who came here with you told us that you returned to the college campus from White Pine Hollow. Do you know what you were doing out there?"

 _White Pine Hollow_? Of course I knew that place. Everyone around here did, or at least, they were supposed to. It was one of the top places for the most hit parties around. It was also one of Iowa's most famous forests, located, I guess, not too, too far from where I was attending school. That part of it, along with realizing that was where I'd actually been, I didn't remember. I must have had a lot of personal memories about the place.

But what I was doing there... well, that was another story. I slowly shook my head, trying my best to keep calm. Innocent. "No, I don't..." I muttered. "I'm sorry..."

Allen attempted another smile. "That's all right. Don't force yourself." However, he couldn't hide a sigh.

I couldn't deny I was disappointed by this, too. Disappointed in myself. I wanted to remember, and I wanted to tell him any information I could. After all, something had happened to me, and there was someone still missing. Getting the police on it could only be a good thing.

"Is there anything you can tell me?" I finally ventured to ask. The lieutenant wasn't the only one looking for answers, after all. "About... you know... what happened?"

Hesitation crossed Allen's face as he exchanged a quick glance with Kyle. The deputy. "Well, see, that's the thing, Colby," he said, and his voice was suddenly heavy. "I can't tell you too much at the present time. We're concerned that anything we might say might bring across fabricated memories for you. We want anything remembered to come from you so it doesn't look like we're trying to sway you. Does that make sense?"

I nodded. Sadly, it did. But I wasn't about to give up. "Anything at all?" I pressed.

Allen sighed, and I could tell he was contemplating his response. "I will tell you something if you answer a question for me first."

Deal. "I can try."

"That's all I ask," Allen did his best to try to assure me. "Do you know how long it's been since you went missing?"

Damn. I closed my eyes, trying with all my might to grasp onto a day of the week. But as I ran the seven options through my head, none of them jumped out at me. Finally, I shook my head. "No. How long has it been? Can you please tell me that, at least?"

Allen nodded. "I can," he said. "You were reported missing ten days ago."

I felt my mouth drop open as I gaped at him. I was wherever I'd been, going through whatever I'd been put through, for _ten days_? That seemed like way too long, but looking at the physical state I was in, I guess I couldn't be too surprised. But still, just hearing it sent dread coursing through me.

Was that pity I saw on the lieutenant's face? Quite possibly. And strangely, it made me feel somewhat better. Maybe he didn't think I was guilty of something after all. "I know it probably wasn't what you expected to hear," he muttered. I could only shake my head and, thankfully, close my mouth. "Ten days is a long time, Colby. Especially going through something like you did."

"Do you... do you know what that was?" As soon as I asked the question, I knew how stupid it was. He probably didn't know much more than I did about what had happened to me during that time.

"No, the most I know is from the report we got once you were brought here," Allen confirmed my theory. "But it makes me not only worried about you, but your friend who was reported missing with you. Clearly, someone wanted to hurt you both. Do you know of anyone who would want to see you hurt?"

 _Jimmy_. Well, that was something. We'd gone missing and ended up wherever I'd been together. But it also made my stomach drop. It also meant that I probably had a pretty good idea of where he was. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember.

"Have... have you heard anything about him?" I struggled to ask, not really wanting to know the answer. What kind of condition would he be in? Worse than me?

Allen's eyes narrowed slightly. There was that pity again. He slowly shook his head. "You were the only one who was found," he told me. He let the weight of that statement sink in for me for a moment before he continued. "Which is why it's so important that we figure out where he could be. Anything you can remember would be of utmost importance to us, Colby."

I stared at my roughed-up hands resting in my lap. I immediately thought of the flickers I'd seen while running through the trees in White Pine Hollow– my chin being jarred off a stone floor, the dark and empty room, the door that was open a crack, the cry of agony...

I shuddered slightly, hoping that the action wasn't noticed by the two officers. Though the pained sound didn't sound familiar, I could only assume it was from Jimmy. I wanted to tell Allen about it, but something deep down made me hesitate. For starters, I wasn't sure if it was even real. It could have been made up, for all I knew, just a trick of my mind that was on overdrive. Secondly, if it was real, it really wasn't much to go by, and I didn't see it being of any help to their investigation.

And thirdly, though I hated to admit it, what if that scream from Jimmy was, for some reason, _because_ of me? I hadn't seen anyone else in that place with the stone floor. And I was already feeling like I'd done something wrong...

Finally, I raised my gaze to Allen's again, relieved to see the patience in his features remained. "I... I don't remember anything..." As much as I hated holding the little bit I may have actually remembered back, it was the best thing to do. For now, anyway.

Allen sighed again before he nodded once, doing his best to give me another reassuring smile before he patted my arm. "It's all right, Colby," he said, though I'm not sure if either he or I believed his words. He rose to his feet. "That's all we'll talk about for now. At least you're back safe and sound. Try to get some rest, okay? We'll talk again when you're feeling more up to it. For now, I'll just give you–!"

What he was going to give me had to be put on hold, because at that moment, the door burst open as a tall, thin woman with highlighted blonde hair that fell past her shoulders in waves ran in. There was panic in her pretty features, which were heavily lined with makeup, and her light eyes immediately found me by pretty much passing up the startled police officers. She was wearing short shorts that showed off her long, toned legs, which couldn't be comfortable this time of year, and she was anxiously putting her phone back into the pouch pocket of her light pink hooded sweater with her French manicured nails.

"Colby! Oh, my God, baby, it's really you! Oh, my God, are you okay?! Colby?!"

I slunk back against the pillows behind me, all of a sudden wishing Allen was still partly concealing me by sitting on the bed. To say I was a tad overwhelmed would be an understatement. I was relieved when Kyle did his best to keep her back.

However, this Barbie Doll chick didn't seem to want to be kept back. She narrowed her eyes with a scowl as she hit the deputy's arm that was restraining her. "No, don't touch me!" she snapped. "I want to see him! He needs me!"

Kyle sighed, not moving from his position. "Ma'am, you need to stay calm..."

"Calm my ass!"

I arched an eyebrow. Did she not realize the position of authority these two guys were in? If she didn't get herself thrown out, it'd be a miracle. Just who was this girl?

However, I felt slightly calmer when Tattoo Girl appeared in the hallway behind them, an even blend of curiosity and concern on her face. She had her hoodie tied around her slim waist, and with the black tank top she was wearing beneath it, I could see that her arms were sleeved with tattoos that stretched onto her chest.

Why couldn't _she_ have been the one to burst in on us? She, at least, knew how to keep her cool.

Allen, however, cleared his throat, which miraculously calmed the struggling deputy and Barbie Doll down. "Ma'am, please, this is a police investigation," he stated firmly. "For now, I'm going to have to ask you to leave–!"

"Police investigation?!" Barbie Doll interrupted, appearing as though the very idea of me being questioned by the police appalled her. "Colby didn't do anything wrong! Let me remind you that he was _missing_!"

"I understand that," Allen replied, any lingering patience he had completely gone. His brow furrowed. "But what _you_ have to understand is that there's still someone missing, and we still have to look into finding him."

"Or did you just conveniently forget that part because Jimmy rejected your advances freshman year?" Tattoo Girl muttered with a roll of her eyes, placing her hands on her hips. I couldn't help but smirk. So, she did have a bit of an attitude to her. Nice.

Barbie Doll turned on her with a fury. "No one asked _your_ opinion, bitch!" she growled. "Why don't you mind your own damn business?" Tattoo Girl simply held up her hands in a placating gesture, though she couldn't hide a smirk of her own.

Kyle appeared much more irritated than I would have been to be stuck between two bickering girls as he tried to keep them separated. Then again, closer up, I'm sure Barbie Doll's shrill voice was much more unbearable. "Ma'am, I need to ask you to keep calm..." he began again, though it was a losing battle as she simply swatted his arm away as though it were a pesky mosquito trying to land on her perfectly tanned skin.

Allen sighed. "All right, we'll get to the bottom of this," he muttered to himself before directing his attention back to the new arrival. "Who are you in relation to Mr. Lopez, ma'am?"

Barbie Doll turned her attention to the lieutenant, smoothing out her waved hair and plastering a sweet smile across her face to show off her perfectly straight, white teeth. She shifted her purse on her shoulder as she held her right hand out, the gold dangling bracelets around her wrist quietly jangling together. "I'm Colby's girlfriend, Summer Moinet," she told him. "We've been together three years. You can ask him! He'll tell you!"

 _Girlfriend_? My heart dropped to my stomach. And I'd been with her for three years? I glanced at Tattoo Girl still lingering in the doorway. She was avoiding my gaze, but unless it was my imagination, her nose was wrinkled a bit as though she'd smelled something rotten.

Allen smiled in attempted politeness as he shook Summer's hand. "Pleasure," he said, though I could tell he didn't mean it. _I_ wouldn't have, if I were him. "But Mr. Lopez isn't going to be able to tell us much of anything for the time being, I'm afraid. Which is why we were just about to take our leave. Now, Colby."

I looked up when he addressed me, watching as he pulled something out of his wallet as he walked back over to the bed. "I want you to take this," he continued. "Feel free to call me at any time if you remember anything that can help us out, okay?"

How about helping me try to figure out my love life, did that count? I took the small card from him, giving it a quick once-over. It was a typical, official business card. It had Allen's name, his position, the address of the police station, and his direct line for contact. I smiled slightly as I looked back up at him. "I will," I assured him.

Allen nodded, patting me on the arm once more before he turned and began to walk toward his deputy partner. "We'll be in touch," he told me over his shoulder. He gave Summer a polite nod as he walked around her to join Kyle, his gaze landing on Tattoo Girl. "You can feel free to contact me for anything, too, Miss Schrieber. If he remembers anything."

Tattoo Girl nodded. "You got it."

With one more smile around the room, Allen stepped out into the hall with Kyle right behind, the door closing behind them.

Summer let out a long, teesny bit overdramatic sigh as she turned to look at me. "God, good thing they're finally gone, huh, Colbs?" she asked with a laugh before she quickly crossed the room to me. "But oh, my God, baby, it's _so_ good to see you! I was _so_ scared... But I knew you'd be found sooner rather than later! You look a bit roughed up, but that'll get better soon, babe. I'm _so_ glad you're home. Oh, Colby..."

She sat down next to me on the bed, and I couldn't help it. I flinched away from her. There was just something about her that was off-putting for me. Maybe if I had all my memories and felt more like myself, she'd be better. After all, I'd supposedly dated her for three years, and who knew what all _that_ consisted of? But for now...

The confusion was clearly seen on Summer's face. "What, baby?" she asked. "It's just me!" But then, realization replaced the look, followed by pleading and disappointment. "You... you really don't remember me... do you? The old geezer doctor out there told me you had some kind of memory problem, but... but I thought..."

I looked back at her, and all the emotions playing across her face at the same time made her look so pitiful that I almost felt sorry for her. But, not enough to override how I felt about my own condition. I slowly shook my head. "Sorry, I just... I don't remember you..."

From the doorway, Tattoo Girl snorted. "What, you thought he'd just remember you and not everyone else in his life?" she asked. "C'mon, Summer. He's got dissociative amnesia. He's not gonna remember any of us for a while. Even you."

The kicked-puppy look was immediately gone from Summer's face as she whirled her head around with an angry glare. "Why wouldn't he?" she demanded. "He _loves_ me." Tattoo Girl simply chuckled, raising my girlfriend's ire. "Well, if he doesn't remember me, at least he doesn't remember _you_ , Zahra. He's much better off without you."

 _Zahra_? Was that Tattoo Girl's name? I liked it. It was kinda... exotic. It suited her.

Zahra raised an eyebrow. "Is that right?" she wondered. "I'd say the same about you, but I'm not gonna stoop to that level."

Summer rolled her eyes. "Oh, please," she said, her irritation making it sound more like "puh-leeeze," which was, in truth, very annoying. "You've always been jealous of me. I'm everything you're not. I have what you can't have..."

Though she didn't try to make it obvious, Zahra bristled slightly as she folded her arms across her chest. "Oh, please," she said in a mocking way, though she didn't make it sound nearly as irksome. "I have nothing to be jealous of when it comes to you."

"Oh, really?" My girlfriend then emitted a high-pitched giggle that made me cringe. "Yeah, I'll believe that when I see it, girlie." She set one hand on my arm, brushing her other in the air in a dismissive way. "Why don't you go ahead and run along? Thanks for bringing him in and what not, but I'm here now. You're no longer needed. So, bye bye! (Or, as it sounded to me, "buh-bye.")"

Well, that was rude. I watched Zahra glance at me before she started to turn. "Yeah. Figures."

"W-wait." The sound of my own voice startled me, though I couldn't deny that I didn't want her to leave. Maybe it was because she was the one who'd been there when I'd come back from wherever I'd been, but I felt comfortable with her around. "She can stay... if she wants to."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Summer give me a look that clearly said, "Are you serious right now?!" Zahra couldn't hide her surprise as her eyebrows rose slightly. But she recovered quickly, giving me a small smile. "It's okay, Colbs," she muttered. "You're in... somewhat decent, if not being compared to anyone else's, hands. Catch ya later."

"Oh, yeah," Summer sneered, flashing an innocent smile that I felt wasn't so innocent. She tightened her hand on my arm in a way that seemed to signify I was hers. "Just go on and continue to wallow in worry about your freak of a BFF, okay?"

My mouth dropped open in horror as I looked between Summer and Zahra. I caught a flicker of fury flash behind Zahra's eyes before she quickly spun around and disappeared from the doorway. Summer settled back against the pillow next to me, seeming to be proud of herself as she ran her thin fingers over my forearm. I had no words for her at all.

But she had some for me.

"It'll be okay, Colby," she murmured in what I assumed was supposed to be a comforting way. "I promise it'll be okay. We'll get through this together. I promise. It'll all be okay."

But for some reason, I had a hard time believing her. I had the distinct feeling that things _weren't_ going to be okay. Despite my initial feelings, I was now clearly seeing that my life wasn't the way I'd thought it was. I simply sat and stared at the empty doorway, tolerating my girlfriend's comforting gesture. When Zahra had left, I felt like my chance at figuring out the questions I had about my life went with her.

 **Author's Note** : And, there we have it for this one! There were a couple little important details in here, as well as the appearance of a couple important characters. As I said in the beginning, keeping an eye on them starting now probably wouldn't be the worst idea. Catch anything? Leave it in your reviews! Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer** : I own nothing associated with WWE, NXT, or Ring of Honor! Just any OCs! Nor do I own the book this was inspired by. That would belong to Jennifer L. Armentrout.

 **Summary** : AU. Two friends disappeared. Only one came back. Colby Lopez knows he's the key to solving not only what happened to him that night, but his still missing friend as well. The only problem is, he has no memory of the event, or of his own life. If he doesn't remember soon, he may lose his best friend. But if he does, he's the one who could wind up dead.

 **Author's Note** : Hey, guys! Thanks for the reviews, favorites, and follows. They mean a lot! So, a couple more characters became a bit more relevant last time, causing more questions than answers for Colby involving his own life, as well as what happened to him and Jimmy. As we keep going, keep an eye on these emerging characters and keep in mind that anyone can be a suspect. Keep an eye out for clues as well, since they'll start to pop up a bit more now. Enjoy!

 _Chapter 4_

The next few days I was kept in the clinic were pretty much a blur. Recovery from all the physical injuries I'd sustained was slow, but with Doc's awesome help and kindness, I was able to walk around on my own and was pretty much able to do my normal amount of physical activity in almost no time at all. I was looking a little better, too, the bruises greatly fading from my face and other places on my body, and my stitches were healing up just fine. I didn't really have any visitors other than Summer, which was only tolerable at best. This was strange to me, considering she was my girlfriend and I should be thrilled she was there, but she was always so disappointed when I looked at her as though she were a complete stranger. I wished Zahra would stop by again, a wish I kept to myself, though she must have been scared off by Summer's words to her the first night I was there. Allen and Kyle hadn't stopped by again either, which was okay with me, as I assumed they were continuing on with their investigation to find Jimmy and figured I wouldn't be of any help to them at all. My mom and stepdad, who I learned I hadn't actually seen in person in quite some time because of their oh-so-busy schedules, called one time once they figured out where I was staying– I had nothing to go by that they were actually my parental units other than their word, but Summer was able to confirm they were who they said they were. They gushed at me and told me how glad they were to hear that I was alive and somewhat well, as well as offer their condolences and their worry about Jimmy (it unsettled me slightly, considering it sounded like he was already dead, the way they talked about him). But, they also said they'd somehow try to make their way out to see me when they had the time. Or, according to my girlfriend, really meant whenever was convenient for them.

My sleep, more often than not, was dreamless.

Finally, after a little over a full week of being there, I was ready to leave the clinic. What a relief. Doc had told me that with dissociative amnesia cases, it was sometimes best to be in areas that were familiar since it could help with gradually returning memories, so the place I should be was home– or, in this case, the college apartment I'd spent four years in. It was a Friday, so it was the perfect time to try to get assimilated into my life again with the approaching weekend.

I stepped out of the small room wearing a different pair of jeans, undergarment, a Glamour Kills t-shirt, and a pair of black Converse than the ones I'd arrived in that Summer had brought for me so I'd feel fresh going home, and I had to admit that it was working as I walked down the hall to the reception area. Aside from a few lingering aches and pains and the whole memory thing, I felt like a normal human being again.

Summer herself was waiting for me by the desk with Martina, the friendly receptionist I'd gotten to know over the course of my stay there. The smiling, plump, fifty-something-year-old woman who always wore floral-print blouses and a rose hair clip in her graying locks had visited me often during slow points in the day when I wasn't going through physical rehabilitation with Doc or talking with the clinic's therapist. She'd always sneak me something salty or sweet from the staff's vending machines during her visits, which was an upgrade from the clinic's food, her excuse for mothering me being that she had a son of her own about my age who was at the campus, too. And that she just liked me. Other than Doc, she was the person I was going to miss most. She had definitely made my stay more comfortable.

Right on cue, Martina looked up as I approached the desk, flashing me her trademark broad grin. "There you are, darling!" she said brightly, turning away from her monitor on her swivel chair to retrieve a packet of paperwork behind her. "It's good to see you up and about and on your way out of here."

I couldn't help but smile back, both by the prospect of actually leaving the clinic and because her smile was just so infectious. "Yup, it feels good to be up and about and on my way out of here," I replied.

Martina chuckled. "I can imagine, dear." Her smile lingering, she handed me the pack of paperwork and a pen. "Congratulations! Just sign these, and you're home free."

"Thanks." I took the paperwork from her, quickly scanning over each page before signing the line at the bottom. My girlfriend typing away on her phone and noisily chewing her gum next to me filled my ears.

Finally, I finished up the packet and handed my release forms back to Martina. She flashed me another grin as she took them to file later, handing me a thin folder in return. "All right, dear. Inside that is some information about home care, and what you can do. There's also your follow-up appointment date in a few weeks, and a referral by your doctor for a psychologist."

My stomach dropped slightly. An actual shrink? I didn't like the sound of that at all. I wasn't crazy. I just... had some memory problems, that's all. But, I guess they think that seeing a shrink will help with that somehow, even if I wasn't so sure myself.

Martina seemed to read my expression clearly, for a sympathetic smile appeared on her face as she reached out and patted my hand. "You went through a lot, dear. A lot that you shouldn't have had to," she muttered. "It's not a weakness to talk to someone after something like that."

I gave her a nod, my throat suddenly feeling really dry so I couldn't speak. But, I managed to get out a small "thank you."

If it'd been more professional of her, I was pretty convinced that Martina would have hugged me by the look she was now giving me. "You're more than welcome," she said. She fished around in a jar on her desk, pulling out a small sucker I was sure were reserved for children and holding it out to me. "You enjoy the rest of your day, dear. I'd say hope to see you real soon, but..."

"Not under these circumstances," I finished for her with a knowing chuckle, taking the sucker anyway. I glanced at the wrapping. Blue raspberry.

Martina gave me a cheeky wink. "Exactly, dear. Exactly."

Summer seemed to realize the boring part of me being released from the clinic was over, and she quickly looked up from whatever she was doing on her phone. "Are you ready to leave, babe?" she asked. When I gave her a nod in answer, she beamed as she put her phone in the pocket of her hoodie. "Great! Let's get going then, shall we?"

"Yeah, sounds good." And I meant it.

Summer turned on her heel and headed for the automatic doors. When I glanced over my shoulder to send one last wave to Martina, I noticed the irritated look residing in her normally pleasant features, and I couldn't hide my smirk as I followed my girlfriend out of the clinic.

It felt so good to be out in the sunlight and to breathe in fresh air again when it wasn't through a small window in the otherwise stuffy room I'd called my own for the week, but I didn't care who saw the stupid grin I was sure was on my face. I felt free for the first time I could remember. I was planning on cherishing it.

"Woo-hoo! Colbs! Over here!" Summer was waving me over from the driver's side of a fancy-looking red car that I'm sure could be converted into a convertible weather permitting. I almost wished it was warm enough to put the top down now, but there was too much of a chill in the spring air.

I walked the few parking spaces over and slid into the passenger side after she unlocked it, putting on my seatbelt as she got in behind the wheel and started the car. She was sliding her sunglasses into place over her eyes and putting on her own seatbelt as I rolled down my window, causing her to chuckle.

"Aren't you excited to be out of there?" she wondered in what almost sounded mocking as she started to back out of the space. "Don't go sticking your head too far out of the window now, okay?"

 _What am I, a dog_? I rolled my eyes, keeping my gaze out the window as she left the parking lot and began the drive away from the clinic and sticking the sucker in my mouth. Since I'd been in the back of an ambulance on my drive to the same place from the campus, I wanted to see the city I'd been living in for a few years. It wasn't anything too special, at least this area of it, made up of mainly homes, an array of trees, what appeared to be a nice bike trail, and a few stores and other businesses, as well as a strip mall. It was a nice, strategic area to have a campus, with many important places within a short enough distance.

When we came to a stop at a red light, Summer quickly turned toward me. "Oh! Babe, I have something for you," she said, quickly grabbing her purse and opening it. "Here you go!"

I glanced over at her curiously, watching as she pulled out three objects and set them on top of the folder in my lap. They were a phone, a wallet, and a set of keys.

"They're yours, baby!" Summer continued when she saw my confused look. "I thought you'd like them back."

Mine? I opened the wallet curiously, seeing that, indeed, my own indifferent face from my driver's license was looking back at me from the inside. I flipped through it a little, seeing a credit card, a couple store rewards cards, a campus ID card, a picture of me and Summer, and a few bills of different denominations inside. I assumed the keys were for a few things, including wherever I lived on campus and my own car. I had just turned on my phone, waiting to get through all the intro screens, as my girlfriend started driving again when a thought crossed my mind.

"Where did you get these?" I assumed that they'd been on me wherever I'd been missing, and they'd been used for identification purposes at the clinic. But if that were the case, I also thought it'd be possible the police would have wanted them for their investigation.

Summer's brow furrowed. "You left them with me," she answered. "On the night you..." Her sentence trailed off, though I knew exactly what the last word she was going to say was. _Disappeared_.

However, she quickly shrugged it off. "Anyway, there was just this, like, party and hang-out thing that night, and you ran off somewhere and left this stuff behind where we were eating," she concluded. "You seemed like you were in a hurry, so I didn't have time to tell you you'd forgotten them. So, I held onto them for you."

I let this information sink in. So, there was a party on the night Jimmy and I went missing. I could only assume there were a lot of people there, and I was sure my friend had to be one of them. A large gathering of presumably drunk young people trying to let off some steam from the stresses of classes would be the perfect opportunity for two people to vanish without being noticed until possibly the day after or so. My girlfriend had said I was in a hurry, which is why I'd forgotten my personal belongings with her. Where was I going? With Jimmy?

Or _after_ him?

The pained scream I'd heard in my possible flicker of memory about a week ago rose up from my subconscious then, and I forced this last thought back. No, I couldn't have been going after Jimmy to hurt him... could I? What possible reason would I want to do that? And if that was the case, why would I be in the shape I was in? I wouldn't do this to myself...

But what if he fought back?

Trying to forget about this possibility since I didn't want to think myself capable of doing something like that, I focused on another question I had. "So, if the clinic didn't have this stuff, how'd they know who I was?"

Summer sighed. "Zahra identified you when she went in with you," she told me as though the idea of this girl being anywhere within sight of me was a sin. "You have missing posters all over town, babe. She was able to fill in all the information for you, and your mom and stepdad were notified, so they worked out the insurance stuff. And before you ask, _yes_ , I let the police see that stuff before I got them back." Her eyes narrowed further as she sent a quick glance my way before looking ahead of her again. "What's with all the questions anyway?"

"Nothing," I muttered, choosing to ignore her snippy tone as I instead turned my attention to my cell phone, not too surprised to see that the screen background was, again, of me and Summer. The number of text messages and voicemails I had were in the hundreds, which nearly overwhelmed me. I'd have a hell of a time getting through all of them.

The car ride fell into silence as I started to skim through the texts, which I assumed were from friends and family. I saw that they started off as concerned and questions of where I was. Then they turned frantic, which is when I assumed I'd been reported missing, along with wishes of my safe return. Finally, they ended with relief and well wishes when I'd been returned safely.

It didn't sound like reactions a potential criminal would get. I felt slightly better.

Deciding to take a break from getting through them all, I, on a whim, went and checked my recent contact list, figuring that this would give me a good indication of who some of my closer friends or relatives may have been. Finding my list of people I'd reached out to last, I selected it.

To my surprise, the name at the top of both the text and call lists was Jimmy Jacobs. And they were dated eighteen days ago, the day we both had mysteriously vanished.

My eyes narrowed. He'd been the last person I contacted? By the look of it, I'd tried quite a few times to get a hold of him. Why had I been trying to reach him? What did I have to tell him on _that_ day? Did it have anything to do with why I was in a hurry at the party? Did it result in what had happened to us? I had no way of knowing.

I quickly went back to my inbox, skimming through the messages to the earliest ones to see if there were any from Jimmy. There were some texts from that day and the week prior, but they were all from Summer. I checked my outbox folder to see if, by chance, there was anything there that would give me some clue about my correspondence with my supposed best friend. It was empty. I even checked my drafts folder on a fleeting hope that there'd be some clue there, but that too was empty.

What in the world?

I closed out of all my message folders and lowered my phone to my lap, looking out the window again and catching sight of my reflection in the side mirror. Above the warning that objects in it may be larger than they appear, I saw that my face was almost cleared of bruising, except for a few faint ones left. It was a definite improvement, though I was too confused to give it too much thought. My mind was spinning with all the buzzing questions I now had.

Why was there no trace of any of my conversations with Jimmy I'd had the day we'd disappeared? When did they themselves disappear? If they were on my phone when the police looked at it, surely there could have been some clue as to what had happened to us within them. And since I hadn't been informed of the police having any sort of leads, that meant that they didn't have them. And if they didn't have them, that could only mean that there were no clues in our correspondence... or the conversations had been wiped before they got their hands on it. And the person who'd had my phone before them was...

I snuck a glance at Summer, who was humming quietly and tapping the steering wheel in time with the pop song that was playing on the radio. I quickly learned that it was definitely not my type of music, but I'd let it slide. But I couldn't help but wonder... had _she_ deleted any of my conversations with Jimmy?

No, I told myself, trying to push the thought down. Why would she do something like that? Summer was my girlfriend of three years, and even though she could be annoying at times, she'd been nothing but kind to me. Why would she do something that would hinder the investigation going on to find me and Jimmy? I couldn't see her trying to do anything that would prove to be harmful to me or my friend.

Unless she thought I wouldn't notice.

But again, I shook my head. No, she didn't strike me as the type who could do something intentionally hurtful, especially when two human lives hung in the balance. She couldn't have done that if the conversations had been important in any way.

Though if she hadn't... _who had_?

Deciding that for the time being it'd be best not to let on that anything was amiss, just in case, I slipped my phone, wallet, and keys into the pockets of my jeans. Summer looked over at me with a smile.

"So, feel good to be somewhat normal again with some of your things?" she asked.

I nodded, forcing a small smile. "Yeah, I'm starting to feel like me," I answered, even though it wasn't completely true. It was nice to have things on me that were definitely mine and gave me a hint of my identity, but I still didn't have what I wanted most that would make me, without a doubt, feel like myself again. My memories. Summer smiled and reached out, giving my knee a squeeze before she turned up the radio as we turned onto a road that would bring us to the campus.

I finished off the sucker as we made our way down the winding road that led up to the main buildings of campus on our right. I glanced to the left, seeing the tall expanse of trees that made up White Pine Hollow that somehow still managed to be dark even with the bright afternoon sun. And for some reason, even though I didn't remember being in those woods at all, they still filled me with a sense of dread. And fear.

Finally, Summer pulled into the parking lot of the apartments, parking in the closest spot to the door that wasn't a handicapped one. She shut off the car, once again turning to me with a smile. "Okay, babe, I'll walk you up," she said, situating her purse on her shoulder again. "And then we can..."

"Actually, I think I'll just head up alone," I muttered, cutting her off. I hoped I didn't sound too annoyed. "I think that'd be best." Truth be told, I was still a bit suspicious about the whole missing phone conversations thing, and it would be a bit easier on me to just be by myself for a bit to come to terms and get comfortable in my own apartment again.

Summer couldn't hide her disappointment. "Oh. Okay, whatever you want, baby... Your apartment's on the third floor. 3-A." She tried another smile. "I have a night class that starts in a couple hours and gets out at nine. I'll swing by then to check up on you, if that's okay..."

Not really, but it'd probably be strange if I said no again. "Yeah, that's fine," I told her instead, making sure I had all my personal belongings and the folder from the clinic before I undid my seatbelt and stepped out of the car. I offered her a small wave after shutting the door, watching as she grinned and waved back enthusiastically before I walked toward the front entrance of the apartment building. Summer stayed in her parking spot until I was out of sight by the door, and I heard her pull away before catching sight of her red convertible speeding out of the lot.

But that left me with a problem. The door wouldn't open. I sighed, my brow furrowing in concentration. For a moment, I wished Summer had stuck around to make sure I'd at least gotten into the building, but I guess she felt spurned by my rejection. Which was stupid, but oh, well. I'm sure I'd figure out how to get in myself, or someone would come along eventually.

I was just starting to look through the keys on my key ring, wondering if I had one for this door somewhere, when I heard a car pull up in the lot behind me. I kept my gaze low, patting my jeans pretending like I was looking for something I'd lost, as someone approached the apartment building as well. I could feel their eyes on me, and I chanced a glance over my shoulder.

A Japanese man roughly around my age with a clean-shaven face and short bleached blond hair that was spiked up a bit in the front stood behind me with a shoulder bag at his side. He wore dark jeans, a pair of black dress shoes, a black leather jacket, a deep purple scarf around his neck, and an arrogant smirk that radiated wealth, though his features were curious as he gazed back at me.

"Colby?" he ventured to ask in his thick accent, and I assumed he knew me from living in the same building as me and maybe from some classes or something. That, or the missing poster that was hanging in the window next to the door, either way. But regardless, I nodded the affirmative.

A smile replaced the smirk on his face. "Ah! Good to, uh, see you are okay," he said. Though I wasn't sure how okay I actually was since I couldn't even get in the front door of the apartment building. He seemed to be able to read my expression, since he chuckled and gestured at the door. "Have trouble?"

I smiled sheepishly, hating to admit it. "Uh, yeah, a little," I muttered, tossing the empty stick from the sucker into the garbage can next to me. "I don't really remember..."

"I see." He stepped past me, pulling a wallet out of the front pocket of his jeans. Man, was my dissociative amnesia that widespread? Though I supposed it was all part of the unfolding mystery saga that was my and Jimmy's disappearance, presented on the news every day for people to eat up and follow along, trying to guess who the possible assailant was. He then took out a campus ID card that was similar to mine. "Use card." He held it up for me to see.

I caught a quick glance of his name– Kazuchika Okada. I still didn't have any real memories of him or what relation he had to me, but I hoped simply calling him "Okada" would suffice. He turned and swiped the card through a small reader next to the door, the red light that had been glowing there now green, and he pulled open the door.

"You want to try?" Okada asked.

"No, that's okay," I answered with a hopefully reassuring smile. "I'll remember for next time. Thanks, Okada."

He nodded once, and I thought I caught a glimmer of amusement on his face as his smirk returned. "No, uh, worries, Colby." He held the door for me, and I caught it as I allowed him to enter the lobby first. "See you around."

"Bye." I watched as Okada waved once at a man and woman who sat behind a desk, both wearing matching yellow t-shirts, before he started up a staircase on the left. Figuring that this led up to the higher-level apartments, I kept my head down so I wouldn't have to interact with the RAs or deal with any more stares and hurried after him.

Remembering what Summer had told me before she left, I went up three flights of stairs to the third floor, and I stepped through another door from the hallway that led to a hallway of apartments. Mine was the first one on the left, judging by the gold 3-A on the door. I pulled out the key ring my girlfriend had given me, trying each key that was on it until I found one that fit. Taking a deep breath, I unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping inside the apartment that had been mine for four years like I was doing it for the first time all over again.

 **Author's Note** : For those not familiar with Kazuchika Okada (for those who are, feel free to skip to the next paragraph, lol), he is one of the most prominent name on the Japanese wrestling scene. "The Rainmaker" wrestled in TNA before returning to New Japan Pro Wrestling, where he is a multi-time champion, including being the current IWGP World Heavyweight Champion after a lasting feud with AJ Styles. He also occasionally wrestles for Ring of Honor due to the partnership the two companies have.

I forgot to mention in the last chapter that White Pine Hollow is a real national park in Iowa. I just moved it closer to Des Moines for the sake and convenience of this story, lol. But, Colby's out of the clinic now, but we have some more questions being presented about what happened, as well as questions about who may have been responsible. Did you catch anything? Leave it in your review! Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer** : I own nothing associated with WWE, NXT, or Ring of Honor! Just any OCs! Nor do I own the book this was inspired by. That would belong to Jennifer L. Armentrout. I also don't own the small excerpt from _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_. That belongs to J. K. Rowling. Anything else mentioned belongs to their respective owners.

 **Summary** : AU. Two friends disappeared. Only one came back. Colby Lopez knows he's the key to solving not only what happened to him that night, but his still missing friend as well. The only problem is, he has no memory of the event, or of his own life. If he doesn't remember soon, he may lose his best friend. But if he does, he's the one who could wind up dead.

 **Author's Note** : Hey, guys! Thanks for reading, the continued support for this story is great! Anyone have any clues they think they've caught so far? Any theories? Feel free to leave them in your reviews. But beware, you're about to be introduced to a whole new pool of suspects, and anyone can be guilty. Enjoy!

 _Chapter 5_

The first thing I was aware of as I stepped through the door was a small bundle of light brown and dark brown fur, slobber, and high-pitched yipping attacking me. I stumbled to the side, and what I saw was an excited Yorkie followed me. I managed to close the door, but before I could try to put some distance between me and the dog, I heard hurried footsteps getting closer.

"Sorry!"

It was an unfamiliar female voice, which really shouldn't have been too surprising. Most voices I've been hearing have been ones I don't recognize. Managing to keep the Yorkie from jumping at me again for the time being, I glanced up in time to see a slender young woman making her way over from where she'd been sitting on the couch in the living room. Her dyed light pink hair was tied in a messy ponytail behind her head, and it looked as though she'd been relaxing with her bare feet, light gray sweatpants, and yellow and gray t-shirt that showed off her stomach slightly.

I wondered who lived here that she'd been expecting instead of me.

"You know he's been acting out. He's just been very..." However, her sentence trailed off when she saw me, and her eyes widened as her mouth dropped open in shock. "Oh, my God! Colby! You're back!"

I straightened up completely just as she ran over and threw her arms around my neck. The Yorkie continued to dance around our feet, yapping as though he hadn't seen me in forever. Then again, I was gone for eighteen days.

"We saw on the news that you'd been found!" she continued as she continued to hug me. "We were so worried... I'm so glad you're back. The guys will be so glad to see you!"

I chuckled, patting her on the back. "Yeah, I'm home... Not that I mind a pretty girl hugging me, but you are?"

There was an awkward pause where neither one of us moved before she backed away, her eyes once again wide while her mouth formed a perfect "o" in understanding. "Oh! That's right... I'm sorry, I forgot," she muttered. She cleared her throat, holding out a hand. I noticed that her nails were painted a nice shade of teal blue when I shook it. "I'm Scarlett Bordeaux. I don't actually live here. I'm Shane's girlfriend, who, uh, does live here." She paused with a sigh, rubbing the back of her neck and lowering her gaze in a hesitant way. "Sorry, this is just, uh... kinda... strange."

I nodded, giving her a small smile as I bent down and scratched the Yorkie behind the ears, causing him to calm down a little, at any rate. "It's okay, I understand," I said. "It's strange for me, too, believe me. I'm having to learn about my life all over again. I don't know who any of my friends are, I didn't recognize my girlfriend..."

"Not necessarily the worst thing in the world," Scarlett muttered under her breath, trying to hide her words behind a quick nibble of her thumb nail.

Despite the fact that she was my girlfriend and I probably should have defended her, I couldn't help but smirk. Not to mention, I was still a little iffy with the whole conversations disappearing from my phone while it was in Summer's possession thing. "Everyone I've encountered so far doesn't seem to like her," I commented.

Scarlett looked slightly startled, probably not realizing I'd heard her. But then, she returned my smirk and waved a dismissive hand in the air. "I guess she's not _so_ bad," she conceded. "She can just kinda be a bitch sometimes. But, she's certainly not the only one, so..."

I chuckled. "Yeah, she's got a bit of an annoying side to her," I admitted. "But regardless... who's Shane? You said you were his girlfriend?"

"Yeah, we've been dating since we were in high school," Scarlett confirmed with a nod, her eyes glowing as she beamed. "Hard to believe it's been eight years already..." Her smile faded slightly. "You were there, too. And Marek..." She sighed. "Here, why don't I give you a tour? Most of the guys are out, either at classes or getting supplies for tonight."

I wondered what kind of supplies would be needed, but I assumed I'd find out soon enough. In the meantime, seeing where and what everything was would be super helpful, not to mention who my roommates were. "Yeah, that'd be great," I told her. "Thanks... Scarlett, right?"

Scarlett gave me a broad smile. "That'd be me," she said. "You can bring Kevin with us, too. He's so happy to see you, he's really missed you!"

"Kevin?" I asked. As far as I could tell, it was just the two of us in the room.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Scarlett laughed. "Kevin's the dog. He's yours! You've had him since you all moved in here."

I looked down at the Yorkie that was now sitting on my foot, his tail wagging a mile a minute as he panted for breath, having worn himself out in all his excitement. Though it appeared there was a smile in his doggie features as he looked up at me. He really had missed me while I'd been away. Smiling myself, I bent down and easily picked him up in one arm, laughing a little as he licked my face.

Scarlett's grin lingered as she watched us before she turned and gestured to the room she'd previously been sitting in. "Well, this is the living room you guys share," she stated.

Have I mentioned yet how weird it is to have someone else show me my own place? Well, in case I haven't, it was certainly a surreal experience having someone who didn't even live in the apartment show me around. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against Scarlett; I like her, she's a nice girl. It was just bizarre to be shown things that I should have recognized, but I didn't. Kevin's panting filled my ears as I followed her waving hand to all the areas of the living room, shaped in a half circle, that were important: the flat-screen television and blu-ray player set up with Netflix, the Xbox and Wii game systems with games ranging from _Call of Duty_ to _Guitar Hero_ , the bookshelf that was half filled with a variety of books and half filled with movies, exercise equipment such as yoga mats and weights gathered neatly in the corner, a few board games lying about, the closet our coats and shoes normally found their ways into, and a colored photograph of a fireplace I guess we'd all chipped in for (with lights that could be turned on in the flames with the flip of a switch, which we sometimes did at night) hanging above the TV.

It had a homey charm about it.

"So, if we go this way..." Scarlett continued, walking around the L-shaped couch and gesturing for me to follow her toward two hallways. We went down the one on the left first, and I saw it wasn't too long and contained only two doors opposite each other. Each one had a small whiteboard and marker on it. "These are two of the bedrooms."

I turned to the door on my left first, seeing the names Marek and Shane were written on the whiteboard, two goofy cartoon stick figures drawn in the bottom right corner. I pointed at it. "These names... you mentioned them, right?"

Scarlett nodded. "Shane Hollister's my boyfriend," she confirmed. "You're both from Davenport, and you've been in school with him since grade six. Marek Brave's from your hometown, too, and you've been in school with him since I think third grade. At least, that's when you became friends. I joined the three of you in high school when my family moved to Davenport from Chicago."

I found myself staring at these two names intently, trying to grasp them. I'd known both Shane and Marek for most of my life, though I felt like anything that had happened prior to eighteen days ago belonged to somebody else in another lifetime. I struggled to put faces to these two names, digging in the very corners of my mind until my head started to hurt. But no matter what I did, I couldn't see them. I couldn't remember, couldn't fill in those gaps.

Across the hall from them were two guys named Kevin and Sami, judging by the white board on the door. A cartoon Lucha mask was drawn on this one beneath their names. I glanced down at the small dog still in my arm, who was now curled up against my side with his eyes closed. Great, two Kevins to get confused between. "Who are they?" I wondered, glancing back at Scarlett.

"Kevin Steen and Sami Zayn were put in this apartment back at that orientation thing in freshman year," she explained. God bless her, she was so patient with me. "They've been in school together forever, but neither of them knew any of you guys before college, as they're both from the Montreal Quebec area. They fit in pretty quickly with you guys, though, and it didn't take long for them to be a part of the group. It's like they've always been a part of it."

I nodded, again trying to see their faces but coming up blank. I didn't try as hard as the first time, since I knew it'd be a futile effort. "I wish I could... remember..."

Scarlett gave me a sympathetic look as she patted me on the shoulder before her smile returned. "Here, I'll show you the rest of the apartment," she suggested.

Sounding like a much better idea than sitting here and wallowing in my own self-pity, I allowed her to lead me back into the living room and down the second hallway, which was much longer and had another open space at the other end. We passed by one door, which Scarlett paused briefly to explain was the bathroom. I smirked at the wooden sign that was hanging on the handle that read, "Enter at your own risk."

When we reached the end of the hall, I saw that it opened up into a full kitchen. There wasn't too much here that needed explanation as everything was pretty much more or less self-explanatory, including a long rectangular table with a fair number of chairs, an oven, a sink, a microwave, three sets of pet food and water bowls (two clearly for a dog while the other was for a cat), a sliding door that led out to a balcony, and pretty much any supplies that anyone who loved cooking could ever possibly need all at their disposal. I assumed that one of my roommates was really into this.

But what really drew my attention was the refrigerator. I slowly crossed the room and stopped in front of it, seeing the surface was covered in pictures. I looked closer, scanning over the memories of the four years we'd spent in this apartment, none of them familiar to me. Among them was a picture of a few guys who I assumed were my roommates sitting on the couch, looking intense as they held controllers to one of the game consoles. There was another where two of the guys were sitting at the kitchen table, laughing as they drank a couple beers. There was another of a bigger group of the guys playing basketball at an outside court. There was another of a few of the guys stretching on yoga mats. There were many others, but one that really stood out to me was a posed group shot beneath the photograph of the fireplace in the living room, the lights of the flames lit, of ten people, all smiling. That must have been everyone who lived in the apartment. I recognized my own happy face in it, as well as in a lot of the others, but the other nine faces, I couldn't place.

"I take a lot of pictures," Scarlett muttered with a sheepish smile. "I just thought it'd be fun to document everything, you know? This whole college thing is gonna be over before we know it."

I couldn't help but smile. "Nothing wrong with that," I told her. "I think it's a great idea. There are a lot of great memories here. They should be cherished." I paused with a sigh, causing Kevin to stir a little in my arm. "Maybe they'll help with getting mine back sometime, at least about you guys."

Scarlett reached up and rubbed my shoulders. "I hope so, Colby, I really do. I mean, I can't imagine what it's like for you..." She sighed herself. "Maybe looking at these will help. At least in getting reacquainted with some of these memories, and the people in them."

"Yeah, maybe." She was more optimistic about it than I was, but then again, she wasn't the one who didn't recognize people she was clearly supposed to know. It was easy for her to say that maybe these pictures could help me remember these parts of my life because she _did_ remember them. But, hopefully with time, and with some help from my roommates, my memories would come back.

And hopefully it wouldn't take too, too much time, since a life could depend on it.

I then let Scarlett take my arm and lead me down another hallway off the kitchen, finding that it was shorter like the first one with three more doors with whiteboards on them, and I assumed these were more bedrooms. I left her to approach the first one on the left, seeing the names Alex and Chris were written on the board. The words "Motor City, baby!" were scrawled in the bottom corner.

"I take it these two are from Detroit?" I asked, turning to my guide.

Scarlett nodded with a smile. "Yeah, Alex Shelley and Chris Sabin are two childhood friends of..." she began before she paused, the cheerful look on her face waning. She cleared her throat, suddenly looking uncomfortable as she searched for anywhere else to look but at me. "Of Jimmy's."

There was that name again, the one that I'd been hearing ever since I came back. Oh, man. He had to mean a lot to these two guys if they all grew up together. I really hoped he could be found and returned safely like I had.

"Jimmy's from Detroit, too?" I tried to ease the tension.

"Grand Rapids," Scarlett clarified. "But they saw each other all the time."

"So... how did I meet him, then?" I wondered. "I can't say for sure, but I've just had this nagging feeling that he's, like, a good friend of mine..." Maybe it was just because we disappeared together, I wasn't sure.

Scarlett looked at me sadly. "You guys were close," she confirmed. "Really close, actually. From what I've heard of the story, which isn't everything, you guys first met when you were freshmen in high school, when you both spent the summer in Chicago with relatives. You guys both said that the other was the only part that made those couple months tolerable." She chuckled. "You stayed in touch, of course, even though he went back to Michigan and you came back to Iowa. But starting junior year of high school, you guys would see each other on weekends in Chicago every couple months or so, and sometimes over breaks from school. Jimmy had started a punk rock band that year, and he'd have gigs there, which you'd go to. The band's still around now and has picked up in popularity around the Midwest. And you guys have been in college together for the past few years, of course. You two have pretty much been inseparable." She paused. "For the most part, anyway. You've been through a lot together."

I looked at her for a long moment, letting this information sink in. So, my feeling about Jimmy was right. It did sound like he was one of my best friends. It made me feel a little better, since I didn't think that I would ever do anything to hurt him like I'd been worrying about. I couldn't have, not to someone I was so close with. But it also made me even more determined to remember what had happened to us and where we'd been so I could find him in time. I knew I couldn't let him die.

But it also made me wonder why I had gotten away and he hadn't. Why hadn't he been able to escape from wherever we'd been, too? I had no way of saying for sure, and it concerned me greatly. What if I'd had to leave him behind? What if he hadn't been able to leave? What if he was...?

No. I shook my head, forcing the thought back. I refused to think the worst and that he hadn't survived, I couldn't allow myself to think so. I didn't want to believe I'd leave him behind and simply escape myself unless I'd had no other choice, or without the intention of returning for him. How could I have guessed that I wouldn't remember a thing? I would have to keep hoping that I'd remember enough to find him as soon as possible, and that he'd be okay, too.

Though something Scarlett had said stuck out to me. We'd been close _for the most part_. Had something happened between us? When? Did whatever that was have something to do with what had happened to us now? I didn't know, but I figured the more I learned about who Jimmy was, including more about the first time we'd met all those summers ago, the more I could try to piece together about that night we went missing eighteen days ago. It would be a good place to start, at least, and that was more than I had before. And that, to me, was encouraging.

I glanced over my shoulder at the room across from Alex and Chris, seeing the names Jon and Joe were written on the whiteboard tacked on the door. Cartoons associated with sports, such as a football and a basketball, were drawn as a border around the words. It made me think of the picture on the refrigerator of a lot of my roommates playing basketball.

"Jon Good and Joe Anoa'i," Scarlett said, seemingly reading my mind when she saw where my eyes had landed. "They moved in here during sophomore year. This room had been vacant until then." She smiled slightly. "Though you and Jimmy had been friends with Jon in particular since the summer before freshmen year started when the three of you met at that stupid orientation thing. Jon's from Cincinnati, and Joe's from Pensacola. I'm sure you saw all the cooking supplies in the kitchen?" She chuckled, again nibbling at her thumb nail until she became aware she was doing so. "They're all Joe's. He's the big cook in the apartment, which is good because the recipes he has are amazing. He doesn't like anyone entering his domain when he's cooking, though. Sami tried making Ramen for everyone once, and that didn't go over too well."

Though I didn't know what either Joe or Sami looked like, I started to laugh a little myself at the thought of someone breaching on the former's territory while he was making, say, dinner for the apartment. I was just about to comment about how no one would like that when the door in front of us suddenly opened.

"Scarlett!" the man stepping out of the room yelled, obviously expecting the woman in question to still be in the living room. She winced from next to me at the loud voice while I did the same. "Scarlett, can you come–!" However, his question abruptly cut off when he saw that she was, in fact, right in front of him, and his light eyes widened when they landed on me, stunned.

Kevin bolted upright from under my arm at the noise, once again panting in an excited way when he saw the other man. I glanced down at the Yorkie before looking back at the man I hadn't expected to be home, just as startled to see him as he was to see me. He had sandy blond hair that fell in a mess around his eyes and hints of facial hair along his jaw. He was well-toned, judging by the white tank top he was wearing, and his jeans had a hole in the knee. He was holding a cigarette between his fingers, positioned halfway up to his mouth. Lying at the foot of one of the two beds in the room behind him was what appeared to be a large black pit bull.

"Wow! Speak of the Devil, and he appears," Scarlett muttered with a laugh. She turned to me, gesturing at the man in front of us. "Colby, this is Jon." Her nose then crinkled as she looked at the cigarette. "I thought we'd agreed long ago that there was just smoking out on the balcony."

Jon finally removed his shocked gaze from me and turned to her with a roll of his eyes. "Yeah, well, I was planning on putting it out before you got here from where I last saw you in the living room," he grumbled, taking one last hit off the cigarette before blowing the smoke out over his shoulder in the general direction of the open window across the room. He then bent over and put it out in an ashtray I hadn't noticed sitting on an end table beside the door and slipped it back in its pack since he still had another half of it to go. Straightening up, he placed his hands on his hips and looked at me square in the eye. "Wow. Colbs. We'd heard you'd been released from the hospital, but to actually see you here..."

I attempted a smile as I slowly extended a hand out toward him. "It's weird for me, too, man," I told him truthfully. "But it's nice to, uh... well, not _meet_ you, but to, uh... see you again?"

"Something like that," Jon agreed, a slight smirk turning up the corner of his lips. He glanced down at my hand before shaking his head, instead leaning forward and wrapping me up in a secure yet careful hug, doing his best to avoid crushing me or Kevin. Slightly surprised, I wrapped my free arm around him to return the embrace.

Before it could get awkward, he patted me on the back and pulled away. "Good to see you again, too, man. We were... fuck, we were scared out of our minds after we reported you guys missing. It's a relief to see you back here and... well, almost okay." He gave me an apologetic smile. "I don't know what happened or where you two were, but they've gotta catch the sicko who did this... Let's hope that the police get their asses moving and find Jimmy soon, too, huh?"

 _Or that I actually remember something of worth_. My smile broadened as I nodded my agreement. I had to remind myself that I wasn't alone in trying to find one of my best friends. "Yeah, I hope they find some lead soon."

"They will. They have to."

I admired Jon's optimism. It made me feel a bit more confident that somehow, this all would turn out okay, just like I'd been told all along.

Though, again, something Jon said stuck out to me. It sounded like he believed we were taken somewhere by an unknown person. I didn't remember anyone outside of me and Jimmy being in the place with the stone floor, but then again, I didn't remember anything outside of the place having a stone floor, so that didn't say much. There easily could have been someone else there. It made me wonder if he might have known of anyone who Jimmy or I may have had some issues with, issues enough to make them take the step that landed me in the hospital for about a week with no memories.

"So, Jon, what were you yelling about before you nearly walked into us?" Scarlett asked with a smile.

Jon met her gaze, realization dawning on his face. "Right! I was gonna tell you that Joe texted me, and he, Kevin, and Sami are almost done with getting the food for the cookout tonight," he answered. I raised an eyebrow, liking the sound of a cookout for my first night trying to get back into my normal life. It'd give me a chance to get to know my roommates again.

"And Marek, Shane, Alex, and Chris should be getting out of their classes shortly and making their way back here, too," he concluded. "I wanted to make sure you had the beverages still taken care of so I can tell Joe what he needs to pick up."

Scarlett slapped a hand to her forehead. "Shit! I was going to pick up the beer Martin's letting me take after my morning class, but I forgot." She glanced at me. "Hey, Colbs, do you think you'd be okay here with Jon for a little bit?"

I nodded. "Yeah, sure. That'd be fine," I assured her. He was a friend of mine, after all, even though I couldn't remember a thing about him.

Noticeable relief crossed her face as she reached out and patted my shoulder. "All right, I'll be back soon, then." She turned back to Jon. "Tell Joe that all he needs to pick up is some soda, or whatever non-alcoholic drink they want to get. I've got the rest. I'll go run and get it now." She paused for a moment. "Do you wanna finish showing him around? There's... one room left..."

I caught the hesitation in her voice immediately, though I didn't say anything as Jon nodded, stepping out into the hall and closing the door of his and Joe's room behind him. "Yeah, no big deal, darlin'," he said.

Scarlett smiled. "Thanks! Be back soon!"

"She works at a bar downtown," Jon explained as she left us. "Martin's her boss."

"Oh, okay..." I watched as she jogged down the hall back in the direction of the living room, waiting until I couldn't see her anymore before I turned to Jon. He had his phone out and was texting who I assumed to be Joe, telling him what I assumed to be the message Scarlett had told him to pass along, before he put it back in his pocket and met my gaze.

"Well, as she said, there's only one room left in the apartment for you to see." He crossed his arms in front of his chest and nodded behind me.

Taking a deep breath, I turned around to look at the room that was next to Alex and Chris', walking the few steps it'd take to cover the distance. There was a lightning bolt drawn in the bottom right corner of this white board, and I raised my gaze to the two names above it– Colby and Jimmy. I realized I shouldn't have been too surprised, but seeing the name written down in front of me still caused my stomach to drop. I could fill in the blanks here. Colby Lopez and Jimmy Jacobs. He was my closest roommate.

Jon sighed. "Kinda hard to see, isn't it?" he wondered.

I glanced over my shoulder at him, seeing he was watching me try to piece this all together. "Yeah, a bit," I admitted.

He nodded once, letting out a long breath. "So, is it true?"

My eyes narrowed slightly. "Is what true?"

Jon glanced down the hallway toward the kitchen before looking back at me. "Is it true that you really don't remember anything at all about what happened to you and Jimmy?"

I lowered my own gaze, landing on Kevin, who'd relaxed in my arm again. "Yeah, it's true," I told him quietly. "And I hate it because I feel like I could find him, you know? Not to mention, I don't know anything about the rest of you, either..."

There was a long pause, and I felt a little nervous. But then... "That's gotta suck, dude."

"Yeah, it does." I looked back at him. "Do you mind giving me a minute just to look in here?"

Jon nodded, giving me a small smile. "Yeah, go ahead," he said.

"Thanks." I turned and hesitated slightly before slowly reaching out and grasping the doorknob. After waiting for another moment of feeling Jon's eyes on me carefully, I sighed and pushed the door open.

Immediately, I realized that nothing about this room was familiar to me, though, again, that shouldn't have been a surprise. I stepped inside, scanning the space in order to try to take in everything. There were two beds against one wall, and though I wasn't sure which one was mine, I saw a light-colored shorthair cat was curled up on the pillow of the one closer to the window. It looked up as soon as I set foot into the room, watching me without a sound. Kevin jumped out of my arm and began to trot his way toward that bed, but as soon as he got too close, the cat hissed, and he whined as he scampered to a small dog bed I hadn't noticed on the floor right next to the second bed and curled up in it. Well, that answered my question about which one was which, and I set my folder from the clinic on my pillow.

On further inspection, I saw that there were a few large framed posters hanging on the walls featuring characters from _The Muppets_ on what I assumed was Jimmy's side of the room, a guitar case leaning against his bed, and a couple of DVDs stacked on the floor near it, including titles such as _Frozen_ , _The Black Cauldron_ , _The Sword in the Stone_ , _Aladdin_ , and _The Lion King_ , as well as the complete first through third seasons of _The Muppet Show_. On the small end table between the two beds were a pack of cigarettes, a couple vials of black and colored nail polish, and some eyeliner. I assumed they all belonged to my missing friend. Then again, I didn't know if I smoked, though I could almost say for sure I wasn't a makeup wearer.

I wandered over to the closet that was along the same wall as the door, well aware that both the cat and Kevin were watching my every move, and pulled it open, seeing that the clothes inside were pretty well divided in half. One one side were a lot of band and graphic t-shirts, while on the other were more dress shirts, polos, and decorative scarves. We certainly had different tastes.

Not finding too much more of interest in there, I turned to face the room again, intent on figuring out what belonged to me so I could start to figure out what kind of things I was into as well. I'd be lying if I said that wasn't one of the strangest things I've ever thought.

I started to make my way toward a desk across the room from the beds, having both a normal chair and a couple beanbag ones in front of it, where two laptops were sitting (one with a couple of Prince CDs piled next to it) before I paused when something caught my attention on Jimmy's bed. There was a book sitting near the foot of it, and I wondered if it was the last one he'd been reading before what happened to us.

Curious, I walked over and picked up the paperback, again very aware that what I assumed to be Jimmy's cat was watching me very closely, and smiled slightly when I saw the cover. _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_. It was a title I was very familiar with– how could I not be? The series was everywhere– though I wasn't sure if I liked it or not or even if I'd ever read it. There was a bookmark about three-fourths of the way through, and trying not to lose Jimmy's place, I carefully opened it. The pages were faded with age, some stained with I wasn't sure what, and the binding was loose while some of the pages were in danger of starting to fall out, both indicators that this was a book that had been read many times before. I flipped past the title page and table of contents, my curiosity rising as I stopped on the first chapter and began to read:

 _"Chapter One, The Boy Who Lived_

 _Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious..."_

"... Colby..."

I paused at the quiet sound of my name, nearly whispered by a voice I didn't recognize. It wasn't female, so it couldn't have been Scarlett, who was gone anyway. And it didn't sound like Jon...

"Colby..."

The voice was slightly louder this time, more insistent. Another one of my roommates, just as surprised to see me as the others had been, maybe? I closed the book, keeping it close to me as I slowly turned to face whoever was trying to get my attention.

My eyes widened in fear. The book slipped from my hands, nearly hitting my foot.

Standing in the doorway was a man who was shorter than me. His black hair streaked with pink fell in a snarled mess down to his chin, leaves and small twigs tangled in it. His brown eyes were dim, almost hollow, and darkly rimmed. There was dirt smudged over his scruff-lined face, and blood trickled down his temple into his eye and over his cheek from his hairline. A faint, thin blood trail snaked from his mouth down his bottom lip, which was slightly blue tinged. Dark bruises marked his pale face, as well as other visible places on his body, such as his neck and chest under his white button-up t-shirt that was shredded and dirtied in many places and had buttons missing. His dark pink skinny jeans were also torn, as well as blood-stained, just like his shirt. One of his feet was bare, and it looked like a couple of his toes were broken.

He stared straight at me, those near-dead eyes boring right into me. Though I didn't know his face, there was only one person I knew it could be...

"Colby..." he murmured again, and his voice was raspy as though he hadn't used it in a long time. He reached a ringed hand, his nails painted black, out toward me. He opened his mouth again to say something else, but I didn't hear it.

A strangled scream ripped from my throat.

 **Author's Note** : All righty, that's it for this one! We have quite a few names added into this chapter, and if you're familiar with all of them, feel free to skip forward to the next paragraph, lol. Scarlett Bordeaux has mainly done a lot of managerial and ring announcing work throughout the indy scene, though she is most known for her appearances in Ring of Honor and AAW (she also does wrestle in some promotions). Perhaps her most notable work is when she was one of the Hoopla Hotties with Truth Martini (Martin in this story), one of the most well-known managers on the independent scene, in Ring of Honor. She also did a lot of work with managing Shane Hollister in AAW. Shane Hollister is probably most known for his work with places such as AAW and IWA. He's had many matches with Seth Rollins throughout the Midwest, and their careers were closely tied. He's still working with places such as AAW. Marek Brave is also very closely connected with Seth Rollins, being trained and breaking into the business together. They've been allies and enemies during their time together in places such as AAW and IWA, including title feuds. He still makes appearances for places such as AAW, and he and Seth run The Black and the Brave Wrestling School out of Illinois. Kevin Steen is now Kevin Owens in WWE. He used to be a team, as well as a bitter enemy, with Sami Zayn, who used to wrestle as El Generico on the indies. Their teaming and feud was most notable in Ring of Honor. Alex Shelley started out on the Midwest independent scene in places such as IWA and AAW before he went to TNA and formed one-half of The Motor City Machine Guns. Now out of TNA, he's back in places such as Ring of Honor and AAW. He's also a prominent part of the New Japan Pro Wrestling roster, being one-half of The Time Splitters with Kushida. Chris Sabin also started out on the Midwest independent scene before also making his way to TNA, forming the other half of The Motor City Machine Guns with Shelley. Also now out of TNA, he's making name for himself in places such as Ring of Honor (being one-third of the trio known as The Knights of the Rising Dawn in Ring of Honor with Christopher Daniels and Frankie Kazarian, otherwise known as The Addiction) and as part of "Love Gun" with Matt Sydal (formerly Evan Bourne in WWE) in PWG.

Well, that's it for that one! Things are getting a bit more intense for Colby. With a whole new pool of suspects to look through, did you catch anything worth noting? Leave it in your review! Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer** : I own nothing associated with WWE, NXT, or Ring of Honor! Just any OCs! Nor do I own the book this was inspired by. That would belong to Jennifer L. Armentrout.

 **Summary** : AU. Two friends disappeared. Only one came back. Colby Lopez knows he's the key to solving not only what happened to him that night, but his still missing friend as well. The only problem is, he has no memory of the event, or of his own life. If he doesn't remember soon, he may lose his best friend. But if he does, he's the one who could wind up dead.

 **Author's Note** : Hey, guys, thanks for the favorites, follows, and reviews, you guys are awesome! Sorry for the bit of a delay, but I've been super busy lately. So, we have introduced the rest of Colby's roommates, and here, we'll meet a few of them. Remember, there's a whole new pool of suspects for you to consider... Enjoy!

 _Chapter 6_

"Colby!"

I quickly opened my eyes when I heard a more familiar voice shout my name, finding that I was leaning back on Jimmy's bed to keep myself from collapsing to the floor. My legs were weak and my breathing was ragged, and I shivered, finding myself covered in a cold sweat.

The apparition was gone as Jon took its place in the doorway, looking at me with concern. I could hear more sets of hurried footsteps in the distance, and I realized other people must have gotten home since I'd come into my room. I hadn't meant to alarm them, but with what I'd just seen...

"What's wrong, Colby?" Jon asked, looking around the room as though he expected to see some kind of intruder. Finding no threat of immediate danger, he turned his attention to me. "What happened?"

I swallowed hard, attempting to settle my breathing even just a little. No such luck. I forced myself to look back at Jon. "You have to tell me..." I muttered. "What... what does Jimmy... look like?"

Jon's brow furrowed in confusion. "What does Jimmy look like?" he repeated, making sure he'd heard me correctly, no doubt. When I nodded, he looked even more confused for a moment, but then realization dawned on him when he remembered my condition. "Jimmy? Uh, yeah, let's see... He's kinda short..."

However, I shook my head. "Not helping." Ignoring the lost look that was now on his face, I pushed myself off the bed and walked around Kevin, who was dancing around my feet since I'd screamed, and approached Jon. I grabbed his arm, starting to pull him in the direction of the kitchen without giving him time to ask questions.

We nearly bumped into two people in the hall on the way there. One was a bit shorter than me with the chin-length strands of his black hair tipped with bleach blond styled in a mohawk and had scruff lining his chin while the other had hair somewhat similar to Jon's, only a medium brown and falling to his chin in a slight wave with a clean-shaven face. They both had backpacks hanging off their shoulders, and they were still wearing something to shield them from the cold– the former with a light-colored jean jacket and the latter a black hoodie– also appearing to have been in the process of taking their shoes off since at least one was untied on both of them. I assumed they'd just gotten back from classes when I'd startled them.

But I pushed straight past them without explanation, still pulling Jon along behind me, as I made my way into the kitchen.

"Jon, what the hell's going on, man?" I heard one of them ask as they followed us.

"Yeah, is Colby okay?" the other added.

I wasn't sure if Jon could even form an answer as I released his arm and hurried over to the refrigerator. Still trying to catch my breath, I frantically scanned the pictures Scarlett had taken that covered the surface, searching for one in particular. Finally, I found the one of all ten of us standing in the living room beneath the lit photograph of the fireplace, and I pointed to it probably a little too hard.

"Here! Show me!" I said, looking for Jon over my shoulder. "Which one is he? Show me!" My heart was pounding so loudly in my ears that I could hardly hear myself think. My fingers trembled.

Jon exchanged a dumbfounded look with the two new arrivals before he cautiously took a few steps forward to join me. He bent over a little to get a better look at the picture I was pointing at, scanning over every face.

Finally he sighed as he reached out and pointed himself. "Here," he told me. "He's right here."

I waited until Jon moved his hand away before I leaned closer to the picture. He had pointed to the man standing in the first row of people, though a bit off to the side, wearing a purple, low-neckline t-shirt with dark skinny jeans, a leopard print scarf around his neck, and zebra-print boots. He had piercings in both of his ears, was wearing eyeliner and dark eye shadow, had his nails painted black on his ringed hands, his black hair that hung straight down to his chin was color free, and he was only offering a small smile.

But I recognized the brown eyes and the scruff-lined face immediately. It was the same face I had just seen in my room. The apparition. _Jimmy_.

I stumbled back away from the fridge, the floor swaying beneath me as I nearly fell. I heard Jon give a startled yelp, his hands grabbing my arms to steady me, while Mohawk and his sidekick stepped forward anxiously. I heard more footsteps from behind us, and I glanced back at the longer hallway that led to the living room. Two more of the roommates I was supposed to know but didn't recognize were standing in that doorway, watching what was going on with bemusement. One, wearing a dark gray t-shirt, dark-wash jeans, and faded black Converse, had black hair that was spiked slightly at the front, dark eyes, and thin traces of a beard along his chin. He had a shoulder bag over one shoulder and a laptop in his free arm, and a gold band was around his left ring finger. The other had his short black hair in almost a mohawk, his normal color on one side of his head, the left side bleached blond with a streak of red running through it, dark eyes, full facial hair, and black circle earrings in both earlobes. His headphones were still in, hooked up to his music player in the pocket of his hoodie, and he ignored his backpack as it slid down his arm, nearly colliding with the books he was holding as he watched us.

I had no idea which four of my roommates they were, but at the moment, I found I didn't care. All I could see was Jimmy. Not the one from the picture, but the vision I'd seen in my room. The one who appeared half-dead.

But what was that I'd seen? That wasn't... _because_ of me, was it? Was that why I was seeing him? Because I felt guilty? Because it was _my_ fault somehow? I wanted to say no, it wasn't, because I'd never do that to one of my best friends. But even if that wasn't the case, and it was some unknown person who'd taken and hurt us... was that the condition he'd been in when I'd left him? How could I have done that? It'd looked like he didn't have much life left in him at all. Was it my conscience haunting me for leaving him? Was it a resurfacing memory? Something else? I wasn't sure...

Regardless of what it was, I finally felt my legs give out beneath me, and Jon's hands loosened their grip on me as I dropped to a crouch. I closed my eyes tightly, but no matter what I did, all I could see was Jimmy, bloodied and beaten, staring right through me. When I opened my eyes again, I felt tears were burning in them. My chest felt like it was constricting.

"I'm sorry, guys..." I whispered. What exactly I was apologizing for, I wasn't sure. For leaving Jimmy in that state, maybe. Or for not remembering what happened or where he was so we could help him. Or, just maybe, for appearing weak in front of them. After all, _I_ was the one who knew where Jimmy was. I just hoped that something, _anything_ , would come to me so we wouldn't be too late for him.

I heard Jon talking in quiet tones to the four guys I didn't know, and though I couldn't make out everything that was being said, I did hear them talking about my loss in memory, stress I may have been under, and _Jimmy_. That name, that face, that was going to continue to haunt me until he was found. I had to remember, I had to find him.

I _had_ to.

Then, I jumped with a gasp as a hand landed on my shoulder, and I pulled away. "Whoa, whoa. Colbs, it's just me."

Recognizing the voice, I looked up to see Jon standing over me, his brow furrowed with concern. I gave him a small smile, which he attempted to return as he held his hand out to me. I took it, allowing him to pull me back to my feet. It was a relief that the floor was no longer swaying, and I was a lot steadier on my feet this time.

"Come on. Let's go sit in the living room and talk a little bit, huh?" he suggested. "Get reacquainted with each other a bit. Yeah, that's a good idea."

"O-okay..." In truth, that sounded like a _really_ good idea. I'd been a little nervous when Jon mentioned we talk, dreading that they were going to interrogate me about the nervous breakdown I'd just nearly had in the middle of their... _our_... kitchen. But, getting to know these guys a little bit again sounded much better, and I hoped it'd be enough to get my mind off what I'd seen just for a little bit. And at least it wasn't all my roommates all at once that I had to try to get to know again. A few at a time wasn't quite so overwhelming.

Jon turned back to the other four men. "Right, guys? It's a good idea, yeah?" he prompted.

The black-haired man and the one with the mutli-colored mini mohawk both nodded enthusiastically almost immediately. "Yeah, that'd be a great idea," the former said with a smile, the latter offering an agreement as they both set their bags aside on the floor. "Come on, Colbs."

I nodded, slowly stepping away from Jon as I made my way toward them. Mohawk in his jean jacket and his sidekick stayed by Jon as they set their bags down at a bit of a slower pace, and as I passed them, I could have sworn I saw what almost looked like wariness on both of their faces. I glanced over at them, and the look was instantly replaced by small smiles of encouragement. Maybe I had imagined it, but if I hadn't, I had a bad feeling I knew exactly who those two were out of my roommates.

When the six of us made it back to the living room, I slowly lowered myself onto one half of the L-shaped couch, moving one of the green throw pillows out of my way. The man with slightly spiked black hair and the man with the mini mohawk sat with me, while the other two sat on the other half. Jon turned off the lights before flipping on the switch on the back of the photograph of the fireplace, causing the flames to light up. He then sat down on the floor and stretched his legs out in front of him, moving his feet back and forth. Kevin trotted in from the hallway that led to the kitchen, pausing as he reached the couch. He looked up at me for a moment, his tail wagging, before he jumped up and curled up on my lap, resting his head on my knee.

I smiled slightly as I absently started to pet him, raising my gaze to the others around me. "So, you wanted to talk?" I asked.

Jon nodded from the floor. "Well, considering everything that's happened, I thought it'd be a good idea to, as I said, get reacquainted," he answered with a small smile. "Don't worry, we'll quiz you later."

I chuckled, even though by the wink he sent in my direction, it was hard to tell for sure if he was completely joking or not. The five men sitting around me, as well as the other three I had yet to re-meet, were all people I'd spent the past few years with. I should have known them. I wanted to know them. Hell, a quiz might have actually been helpful.

"And I'm sure that you've heard this a million times already since you got released, but we're just really glad to see you back and in pretty good health," the man with black hair sitting right next to me said. "We were really concerned about you and Jimmy..."

Jon laughed. "And, we have a volunteer to start!" he stated. "Go ahead, Marek. Your name, major, and an interesting fact about you."

The other man rolled his eyes. "It's not a class, you dipshit," he muttered. But then, he grinned when I met his gaze. "Well, as he said, I'm Marek Brave. I'm going for a degree in sports management and physical therapy. I'm a health and fitness trainer at a gym downtown."

I smiled, wrapping my arms tightly around him when he leaned in for a hug. I liked Marek's friendly demeanor immediately. Trying to think through what Scarlett had said about all of my roommates when she'd given me the tour of the apartment, his name stood out. But why? "How long have I known you?" I wondered. Maybe that was it.

"We became best buddies in third grade," Marek told me. "I split a pistachio muffin with you that my mom had packed in my lunch that day."

So, this was one of the guys from my hometown that I'd known for most of my life. That would explain my comfort level with him right off the bat. I glanced around Marek at the man with the mini, multi-colored mohawk, who nodded.

"Shane Hollister," he said, reaching out and grasping my arm since it was harder to go for a hug. I grasped his back. "We met in middle school since that was the first time we were in the same district and were put together as partners for a project in science class. You, me, and Marek are the Davenport trio." He smiled. "As far as a degree goes, graphic design all the way, baby. Some of my work can be found around campus. And I'm addicted to buying art supplies."

"Which ends up, more often than not, invading my side of the room, too," Marek murmured with a chuckle, to which Shane just shrugged.

My smile broadened. Yeah, I definitely liked these two, and so far, they were definitely the ones I felt most comfortable with. "And... you're the one dating Scarlett, right?"

Shane nodded, his eyes lighting up. "Yeah, since freshman year of high school," he confirmed. He glanced at Marek when he elbowed him in the ribs, putting on a fake scowl as he shoved his arm. "Shh!" But then, he looked back at me curiously. "You've met Scarlett?"

"Yeah, she was here when he got in," Jon explained. "She hadn't made the beer run yet."

"She was nice enough to show me around a bit and tell me a little about all of you," I added. "What's she going for?"

"Musical theater," Shane told me. "And man, is she good at it..." His smile returned. "She works at The House of Truth, a bar downtown. Sings there sometimes, too. We'll take you out there one of these nights, it's a bitchin' place. Her boss is nice enough to let her take some packs of beer for get togethers like the cookout we're having tonight."

I smiled in return. "Yeah, that sounds like fun. I'd like to go."

"Great!"

Starting to rub Kevin's stomach when he turned onto his back, I then turned to the other two men sitting on the other half of the couch, who had yet to say a word. Seeming to guess what I was thinking, the one with brown hair that fell to his chin in a slight wave straightened up a bit to meet my gaze. "Chris Sabin," he said with a slight smile and a wave. That name sounded familiar, and I was starting to think my earlier feeling about who he was was spot on. "I'm going for Communications. I'm from Detroit, and I actually work for my dad's mechanic shop back home. While I'm here, I do a lot of online managing stuff for him, but I'm in the shop otherwise. Probably kinda cliché for where I'm from, but oh, well." He chuckled, leaning back against the couch.

So, I was right. I nodded back at him with a smile, my gaze moving to the man with his longer black mohawk tipped bleach blond next to him. If the first one was Chris, this had to be...

"Alex Shelley," he told me, smiling slightly as well as he gave me a slight nod. "Also from Detroit. I'm going for Communications, as well." He briefly paused, letting out a quiet breath. "I'm in a band that Jimmy's the frontman of."

"I don't play any instruments or have any singing or musical ability," Chris added with a laugh. "Otherwise, I would be, too. Though I make a badass groupie." He added the last part with an exaggerated wink in Alex's direction, who just rolled his eyes in return. I could immediately see what he was doing– making sure things didn't get too tense, though tension was most certainly in the air.

I opened my mouth to say that it was nice to get to meet them again, too, but Alex beat me to it. "I just want to make something clear," he stated, looking straight at me. "You're our friend, Colby, don't get me wrong. And we're really happy that you're okay and back with us. But we've known Jimmy for a long time. The three of us are like family. Just knowing that he's still out there, wherever you were, and seeing what kind of condition you were found in... We're scared. Whoever did this to you is still out there with him, doing God knows what. We just want him to be found safely, too."

So, I was certainly in the same boat as Alex and Chris, having the same kinds of questions. Who would do this to us and why were at the top of the list. Where he was still and what was happening to him were a close second. My heart went out to them immediately. "I'm... I'm so sorry, guys, I really am," I murmured, not able to meet either of their gazes. There was no way I could tell them about the apparition of their childhood friend I'd seen earlier. I didn't even know if it was real... "You have no idea how much I want to remember what happened to us if it means finding him. I don't know why I came back and he didn't, but I wish he'd came with me. I... I've seen small bits and pieces of... something, but nothing that would be of any help..."

Marek sighed from next to me, and he draped an arm over my shoulders. "Don't try to force yourself," he advised. "That's only going to make things worse. It'll come to you."

 _But what if it's too late by then_? I couldn't bring myself to voice the question. It was a thought I didn't want to have. But I appreciated the comforting sentiment by the friend I'd had longest, and I leaned against Marek's arm with a small smile.

"Well, on the news over the past week, the police in charge of the investigation of searching for Jimmy said they think they can narrow down an area of White Pine Hollow to look into," Chris said with a small shrug. "Based on where you were found, Colby. So, that's a good thing. They'll keep looking, and they'll find him. We've just gotta keep thinking that. You came back, so there's hope he will, too."

I considered this for a moment as Marek tightened his arm around me. They had a point. That was something.

A long moment of silence followed Chris' statement, the somber mood making its return as it hovered over us like a blanket. Jon cleared his throat. "Okay, then... Well, you know my name's Jon. I'm going for a Psychology degree. And... I'm a male stripper."

Everyone collectively turned to the man sitting on the floor, confusion and some disgust on our faces. "What?" I asked while a couple of the guys around me started to chuckle.

Jon smirked. "I was totally kidding about that last part," he said. "Just trying to lighten the mood a little, God... In all seriousness, I'm a security guard at the mall downtown."

"We like to call him Paul Blart," Shane muttered with a grin. "Though if he actually were a male stripper, he wouldn't even get a dollar out of me."

"He'd be _so_ sexy, though, chasing you around on his little motorized scooter," Chris added with a laugh. He and Shane leaned toward each other to share a high five.

Jon rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, shut up... It pays decent, okay?"

I laughed a little myself, feeling like I was able to breathe a little easier again. Jon's joke certainly seemed to do what it was intended for as light chatter arose between him, Chris, Shane, and Marek. I glanced over at Alex, who was staying out of the conversation as he leaned against the arm of the couch, his cheek resting in his palm. I had to wonder if he was Jimmy's longest friend like Marek was mine since he in particular seemed to be very worried about him.

I carefully nudged Kevin off my lap and rose from my spot on the couch, causing a few sets of eyes to move to me as the talk continued. Smoothing out my jeans a bit, I carefully stepped over Jon before walking over to where Alex was and sat on the arm of the couch. He lowered his arm and looked up at me, partly curious and partly startled.

"Yes?"

I sighed, glancing at where I'd folded my hands in my lap. "I was just wondering..." I looked over to meet his gaze. "Tell me about Jimmy. What is he like?"

Whatever conversation our other four roommates had been having suddenly stopped as Chris, Marek, Shane, and Jon looked over. Alex stared at me for a moment, searching my face to see if I'd meant what I'd asked, before he looked back at the others with a slight nod. They slowly tore their gaze away from us, and the conversation was reluctantly restarted.

Alex then rose from the couch, setting his hand briefly on my arm before he walked around the couch. Slightly confused, I stood and followed him, finding him leaning against the doorway of the longer hall that led to the kitchen with his hands in the pockets of his jean jacket. I leaned against it across from him.

"So. What do you want to know?" he asked quietly.

The question caught me a bit off guard, but I supposed it'd be easier for me to do the asking instead of just expecting him to tell me everything about our missing friend on the spot. "Oh. Uh, well..." I cleared my throat, trying to decide what to ask first. "What degree is he going for?"

"Communications, like us," Alex told me.

Well, that was a short answer. Then again, it was a basic question. "You guys are in a band together?" I pressed. "What do you guys do?"

Alex nodded. "Yeah, since high school. Jimmy's the lead singer and plays a bit of bass. I'm the lead guitarist. We're getting quite a name around the Midwest now." He paused, a slightly somber smile appearing on his face. "With this whole thing, we've gotten an increase in publicity, that's for sure..."

My gaze faltered. I'd been trying to distract him from the grim reality, not remind him of it. "So, he's a Disney fan, I take it?" I wondered, trying to change the subject. "From what I saw in our room, that is..."

This brought a real smile to Alex's face. Small, but still genuine. "Oh, yeah. Big time. He loves anything cute and cuddly," he muttered with a chuckle. "He's a softie like that. Disney, Muppets, you name it. He's all over it."

I couldn't help but smile, too. "There was a cat in our room, too. Is that his?"

"Yeah, that's Alfie," Alex confirmed. "He bought him right before we moved out here for school." His gaze faltered. "He's really been taking the past few weeks hard. He'll rarely leave Jimmy's pillow except to use his litter box. We have to bring his food and water bowls to him and sit with him while he eats. Speaking of..." He paused, glancing at his cell phone to check the time. "I should do that. He hasn't eaten yet today." He slipped his phone back in his pocket before giving me a small smile. "We'll talk more later, okay? Excuse me."

"Sure thing." I moved away from the doorway to give Alex room as he passed me, watching him until he disappeared into the kitchen. I wanted to say something to him, to assure him that we would find Jimmy, since I could see how much this whole thing was tearing him up, too.

But there wasn't anything I could say.

 **Author's Note** : So, we now have five of Colby's roommates in the picture. Notice any clues? Could one of them have anything to do with what happened to him and Jimmy? And is Colby starting to lose it? Or is there something more to what he's seeing? We'll have to keep going to find out! Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


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